Verasuvius
by BananaBirdNova
Summary: By Nova. Based on ajremix's story "And Now for Something Completely Different", chapter 13 Prime Rising. You will have to read it to understand what's going on. What was happening elsewhere on the planet when Thunderous Prime came into power? This is what.
1. Prime Rising

Hello, again! New story (like, five years old, actually)! This one is based off ajremix's story And Now for Something Completely Different, chapter 13 Prime Rising, which story was based off Andrew Griffith's Thunderous Prime artwork (go look both up, they are both perfect). I did indeed get permission to post this story! (two years ago, heheh), and I am excited to finally do so!

With that, enjoy.

* * *

They had called her Star, once upon a time, she remembered distantly as she swirled her high grade. It seemed to have been so very, very long ago now. She sighed despondently as she set the glass down, letting her head fall back to stare at the ceiling. It had been a while since anybody had called her Star, even Ricochet, and she wondered what had happened to that femme. She remembered, of course, exactly what had happened to force her away from being Star; that was easy. It wasn't a date to be forgotten. It had been the day Optimus Prime had died—and Megatron as well, she mused, since things probably would have gone very differently if Starscream had not murdered his leader and claimed the Matrix as his own. So, it was the combination of the Prime and the Decepticon Lord dying that had brought about the change.

Verasuvius traced the purple insignia adorning her shoulder, a familiar motion that still brought that feeling of loss bubbling up through her tanks, especially after a few rounds of high grade. She off-lined her optics to think, leaning back in the chair even further. Yes, it had been a while, it had even been a while since she had really pondered the whole ordeal.

The day had been terrible. What had followed had been even more so. Star had fought with her Autobot brothers and sisters when Starscream had ordered the slaughter, after he had claimed the Matrix and Decepticon leadership, but she had been stunned, too. So stunned that any ability she held to command the army had gone out the window as they scattered. And what else could they do but scatter to the four winds and try to hide, regroup, come to grips with the facts and return to the battle another day?

She had distributed the forces under her purview carefully in their strongest fortresses, and then she had gone back to look for those who had not been accounted for. She had prayed they were alive.

Ironhide had been among the dead. Blaster had fallen, as well, his cassettes curled up all around him like lost sparklings. Wheeljack had gone out with a bang, nothing but a charred mess beneath a collapsed building. Star had counted 30 Decepticon chassis in the rubble with him, and those were just the ones still recognizable as having once been mechs. There were other Autobots she had found dead that day, names and faces blurred with time into a mass of mecha she had known, once, but forgotten now. After some searching she had found Red Alert and Inferno in a bombed-out shell of a bunker nearby. She had thought they were both dead, but then Red Alert's horns had sparked feebly at her proximity and she had looked closer. Inferno was deactivated, thoroughly slagged, and Red Alert was clutching the chassis to his chest desperately, as still as his best friend and so covered in dust as to look deactivated, but he wasn't. So she had carefully pulled the mechs out of the corner they were jammed into and started to work, stabilizing the security director until he woke up. He had jumped, as he always did, and she had calmed him, and he had been confused until he saw what was left of Inferno. Then he had remembered what had happened and Star had never seen the usually hysterical mech break down so quietly.

"He protected me." Red had managed to choke out before she sent him back into the blissful world of stasis lock. She still hadn't heard him speak since.

There had been some happier moments that day, too. She also found Perceptor's stasis-locked chassis half buried in the same building Wheeljack had brought down. She had stabilized him for transport back to where most of the Autobots were hiding out, where he made a full recovery under Ratchet's care. When she moved to the underground she found quite a few bots stumbling about, searching for a place to be safe, and directed them to the nearest base that hadn't been overrun yet. She tripped over a few energon-deprived chassis before exploring yet another sheltered cranny to come face-to-barrel with a sophisticated rifle she knew all too well, and carefully talked Prowl out of his battle-computer driven survival mode before taking him back to the Autobot main forces. Other rescue workers had brought back even more mecha.

She had thought they could pull together and work it out. She had been wrong.

'Bots had flocked to their shelters, running from the Decepticon forces that scoured the land, constantly retreating and retreating until there was nothing left to retreat to, until they were just bands of Autobots hiding and striking and running, simply surviving, ironically similar to how the Decepticon movement had started. Not that anybody appreciated the irony.

Star had left long before the last Autobot province had fallen. Not because she wanted to, not because she didn't care, just because she knew she needed to get herself a spot in the Decepticon ranks before the whole thing went to Pit and it was too late for such an inside position to help anything. In the end, though, it had been too late anyway.

~0~

Verasuvius had already been working her way up the ranks before It happened, having a thorough understanding of how the Decepticons worked and perfectly capable of excelling among them. The day Iacon had fallen had been the day she had been promoted to Province Manager over what used to be the Tagan Heights. It had meant very little at that point in the war, now that the Decepticons controlled all of Cybertron, and since it had been mostly destroyed only two Vorns earlier. It was basically a house-keeping position, but it had suited Vera just fine. She was good at building things from the ground up.

It also left her alone to wallow in despair for Cybertron every once in a while.

There had been a plan in all this, even though it felt pointless by then. She had maintained close contact with Prowl, and she knew the numbers of fallen comrades, the names of the officers no longer with them. But Prowl was one of very few who knew what she was, and it was only a matter of time before the first wandering contingent of Autobots tried to use the nearby Sonic Canyons—which were under her jurisdiction—as a base, and the plan began to bear fruit.

Her patrols found them fairly quickly and brought them in with only a minor skirmish. The Decepticon called Verasuvius had been mostly invisible to the Autobots up to that point, but she made sure to make a good first impression, and her reputation spread quickly. She wasn't the worst 'Con officer to run into, that was for certain, but she wasn't pleasant to deal with, either.

Still, the Sonic Canyons were difficult to monitor, due to the inhospitable environment and the extensive catacombs in the walls—not to mention the _noise—_ and the Autobots got smarter at hiding in them and using the confusing network to their advantage. The patrols caught units fairly regularly, though, regularly enough to keep Starscream happy and reassured that he had nothing to worry about from her or the Sonic Canyons, and batch after batch of unfortunate mechs were dropped into the seemingly bottomless pit—simply called 'the Hole' by most—at the end of the fissure, screaming to their deaths. Of course, that was where the plan finally came into play, and the only reason Star could live with herself through all this was because not a single one of those Autobots ever found out if the Hole was truly bottomless or not, and not a single one of them perished from the drop.

A seeker who liked to drop groundpounders from high places was only half of Verasuvius' reputation, though. The other half was established with the third group of Autobots they caught.

Verasuvius had slowly walked down the line of demoralized mechs, hands clasped behind her back, optics passing over each one, and a cruel little smile playing about her admittedly beautiful face—until she reached the end of the line, where one mech sat up marginally straighter than the others and met her gaze without looking away. Verasuvius had paused, cocking her helm at the mech with a smirk, amused by his quiet defiance.

"A little bold of you, don't you think?" she had asked, almost gently. The mech had blinked.

"I do not fear you." He had replied, quiet but firm.

"Don't you?" She had raised both optic ridges at that before leaning over, cupping his chin in one hand as her grin slowly grew. "Perhaps I should teach you to."

He hadn't replied, but his gaze hadn't wavered either, and Verasuvius' grin had broken into a full-fledged smile. Not a very nice one.

She had chuckled, straightening and turning away. "I want him." She told her lieutenant with a casual gesture to the half red Autobot. "Dump the rest. But keep him."

The lieutenant had blinked in surprise, but obediently asked, "Where would you like him, Ma'am?"

Verasuvius had paused, her back facing all but the door guards. Her wings twitched and the shark-like smile that spread across her face had made the two guards shudder. "My quarters." She had said simply, and then swept out of the courtyard, her dark, sinuous seeker frame disappearing quickly. The Decepticon shrugged.

"You heard the boss-lady."

As he was hauled to his feet and shoved in the opposite direction of all his comrades, Perceptor had to wonder what on Cybertron he had just gotten himself into.

Nobody had seen the mech after that, except for the ridge guards. They saw all they needed to and reported the battered frame getting dropped down the Hole early the next on-cycle. Pretty regularly after that Verasuvius would pick one, or maybe two, when the fancy struck her, out of the captured groups for herself, and she would personally drop them when she was done with them. The rumors absolutely _flew_ through the base, but nobody really knew what she did with them, besides beat them to scrap. Nobody except maybe Ricochet.

Ricochet was the second in command of the Tagan Heights. He had been a neutral to join the Decepticons shortly after that fateful day when It happened, as many neutrals had. He had been assigned to the Tagan Heights province and rose quickly through the ranks thanks to his underhanded methods of getting what he wanted. He had a nasty rep for blackmail and sneaking about and would carve a mech up pretty bad when confronted or provoked—though, being smaller than a lot of mecha, he wasn't the most confrontational guy. He was actually pretty level-headed, most of the time, making him an excellent second in command and a very dangerous mech to cross. Verasuvius seemed to trust the mech quite a bit, perhaps more than she should, and he held a lot of power in the province. They spent a lot of time together, not unusual for the first and second in command of a province, but an inordinate amount of it was in private, and Ricochet was possibly the only mech who had codes to get into the femme's private quarters. The rumors flew for them, too, but not where either could hear.

And Verasuvius let them think what they wanted. Her business was private and it made no difference to her what the grunts said. Though it did accomplish the task of giving her a filled out and rather…colorful reputation.

But despite all the work they had done rescuing so many Autobots, Star still couldn't help but feel it was all in vain. To what point and purpose was this? The Autobots were a broken and scattered lot. They had no real leader, despite all that Prowl and the remaining officers attempted to do. They were getting nowhere, and that situation didn't look to be changing anytime soon.

"You keep doin' this an' one o' these days yer gonna get us in trouble for it." A soft voice pulled her from her thoughts and Verasuvius lifted her helm and on-lined her optics to give the black and red mech a hard stare.

"You know I can't get drunk." She retorted.

Ricochet shrugged as he sauntered over to take the seat across the small table from her. "I'd call ya out on that claim, but'cher right, I know better. You gonna finish that?" he asked, gesturing to the crystal glass less than a quarter full of green-blue liquid.

Vera sighed, letting her head fall back again. "No, you can have it. But take it slow." She reminded as the mech eagerly took the glass, ready to knock it back. Ricochet rolled his optics, but complied.

The first sip made his frame vibrate for a moment, sharp crimson optics flaring briefly as energy exploded in his systems. "Holy-!" the mech coughed, shaking his helm at the sudden weightlessness he felt. "What is this stuff?"

His optics were giving him a fuzzy input, but he didn't miss Vera's grin. "My personal brew, which you should have known better than to try." She chuckled, her voice echoing around in his head. Ricochet gagged as the overload sent the room spinning around him, and the next thing he knew he was on the floor with his commander leaning over him, still grinning. "You okay?" she asked.

The explosion of energy had calmed to the regular buzz of high grade and Ricochet grunted. "Ye're an evil femme."

Verasuvius laughed, offering a hand to help him up, which he unsteadily took. "No more for you, then." She said as she put him back in his seat, where he slumped onto the table. The femme picked up the glass, sent a sly look down at her second, and then drained the rest of it. Ricochet groaned.

"Show off." He muttered.

Vera grinned, taking her seat again, optics almost pink but otherwise unaffected. "So you come all the way here just to cheer me up, or do you have business for me?" she asked.

Ricochet tried to lift his head off the table, but it thumped right back down and he muttered something into the crook of his arm. Vera sat back, relaxing as she waited for the buzz to wear off so her second could be coherent again, turning the delicate glass over in her hands.

"What were ya thinkin' 'bout when I came in?" was the airy question that finally came out of the mech.

Verasuvius immediately glanced away to look out the windows at the light of the Sonic Canyon, her smile falling. The noise it produced was a dull throb in here, even though it was pretty noticeable anywhere else in the fortress, and faded easily into the background. She scanned the room again, to be sure no espionage equipment had been planted in her sanctum since the last she had checked, before speaking.

"What are we still doing here, Jazz?" she asked quietly.

"Whatcha mean?" he asked, resting his chin on his forearms so he could look at her, still pleasantly buzzed and not thinking very straight.

"What are we trying to accomplish here? What _is_ there to accomplish? Without the Matrix…" she sealed her lips, glancing away again to fix her optics on the glass in her hands.

"What else would we be doin'?" Jazz wondered after a moment. "What else is there t'do?"

Star sighed deeply. "I don't know, Jazz. We're losing more every day, no matter what we do here, we're divided and scattered across the planet, and it feels like we just keep losing no matter what we do. I'm afraid…"

The black and red mech reached over to put a wobbly hand on her arm. "We're all afraid, Star. It don't mean we gotta back down."

"Of course not." She agreed softly, looking up at him. "I just wish—"

Verasuvius froze, optics flaring pure white as a presence filled her. It flooded through her awareness like a burst of sunlight, fresh and new and _alive_. A power she had not felt for a very long time was exploding across the planet, roaring out its authority and continued existence.

Somewhere, somehow, the Matrix had awoken and chose its next bearer.

The surge of power brought with it something she had forgotten over the vorns as well, something she had known once, but left behind in the spiraling war. A name echoed through her spark, as loudly as the Sonic Canyons, blasting away her doubts until there were none left and she _knew_. Knew as she hadn't known ever since It had happened.

When she came back to herself she was on the floor with Ricochet kneeling beside her, looking concerned. "You alright?" he asked, searching her white optics intently.

A slow smile spread across her face, and she reached up to clap a hand on the mech's shoulder, making him wobble. "I haven't felt this good for a long time, friend. Come on." She got up quickly, rolling to her feet. "We're going downstairs."

Jazz hurried to catch up as she strode toward the second door in the room, an inner sanctum that was even more off-limits than the room they were in now. He struggled to walk straight and understand what was going on. "Why? What happened?"

Star turned to look at him with a grin, optics sparkling, as an elevator pad lit up on the tinted window of her berthroom. "There is a Prime on Cybertron once more."


	2. Aftershocks

The news sent shockwaves through the Decepticon ranks. Thundercracker? Really? Air Commander and second in command of the Decepticon army. _Thundercracker_ had attacked Starscream and taken the Matrix. Not only had he taken it, it had _chosen_ him.

It sent shockwaves through the Autobots too. A Decepticon? Really? Their new Prime was _a Decepticon?!_ Was this some sort of bad joke? It had to be, because that wasn't even possible, was it?

The Sonic Canyons community was in an uproar for an entire cycle, but the Nova didn't back down and calmly assured them that she knew it had happened and it was true, firmly asserting that if the Matrix had chosen Thundercracker to be the next Prime then he was worthy and they should support him.

"Give him a chance, you guys." She pleaded. "He's all we got and we _need_ a Prime."

There was a division. Some refused to believe it, others refused to accept it, some were ready to try, and most were unsure. It just didn't…how could this be?

"Because the Matrix doesn't care about faction. It cares about what's in your spark." Star told them.

Some mecha stormed out, some drifted off to quietly think. But most stayed put to talk amongst themselves.

"Prowl, you must go to Iacon. Thunderous Prime will need your guidance." Star told the Praxian.

Prowl frowned, still thinking through the situation and still not sure he liked this development. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know it's hard to accept, but we need him. You know we do. And he's going to need help to know what's going on."

"How do we know we can trust him?" Prowl asked. Star shrugged.

"I trust him."

"You have never met him."

"No, but I have met Thundercracker. It's his job now to do something about this, Prowl, and since Starscream has labeled him a traitor he has nowhere else to go. He kind of has to be on our side."

After a moment Prowl nodded. "Very well. I will leave as soon as I am able."

"Thank you."

~0~

It had been several deca-orns since then. The Decepticons were enraged, but the Autobots were good at hiding by now and laid low. The Sonic Canyon community had had little communication with the group moving around with Thunderous Prime, but more and more Autobots were finding him as news spread in the underground, and the community was getting progressively smaller as more and more mecha left. Most of the 'Bots that came were the ones who either didn't know what to do, or who were bitterly against the new Prime. Still, their system held, and possibly held even better than it had before as Starscream called more warriors out of the provinces to help hunt the Autobots in the Iacon region, following Thunderous Prime wherever they dared. It was heartening for most mecha to know they had a hope again.

And then there were mecha like these ones.

Verasuvius paced up and down the line slowly, as she always did, imprinting each Autobot's face in her databanks so she could remember them always. Her black and chrome, lightweight seeker frame moved fluidly, lights glinting along her curves as she smirked down at the mechs at her supposedly cruel mercy. Most kept their heads down, not daring to meet her optics. Bad things happened when you did that, they had been told.

But there was one who gave her a very fleeting glance, and it was full of disgust and hate; a resigned kind of defiance, as if he knew nothing else. She met his glance and her mouth twisted up into a smirk, but he flicked his optics back to the floor as she passed. Two steps beyond him and she still caught the word he muttered under his breath.

Verasuvius stopped. "What was that?" she asked lightly, not looking back. When there was no answer she did turn around to stalk back to the mech and lean over him. Slowly, he looked up to meet her crimson optics, a tiny sneer on his face. He was scuffed and scratched and scarred terribly, as was every other Autobot in the lineup, but his optics were bright and there was a rather handsome face hidden beneath the wear and tear of a rebel.

"I said, you're a freak." He repeated clearly and slowly.

Verasuvius straightened, holding his glare, smile slowly spreading. The mech was fairly large, a melee fighter from the looks of him, but he was lean and she would bet he was pretty strong. The surreptitious glances his neighbor was sending him—a similarly built mech with flares on the side of his helm—were not lost on her. Neither was the fact that they had similar paint jobs, two strips of paint running down their arms, chests, and legs. Maintaining any sort of paint job was a luxury for the Autobots now, but these two seemed determine to hold on to at least a tiny bit of individuality. The Autobot she was confronting had red stripes while the other had golden yellow ones.

She stared at the mech for a moment more, smiling broadly, and then began to laugh. "Oh, _yes_ , you've still got some fight left in you." She crowed when she was done. "And what's this?" she wondered playfully, actually going down on one knee to lift his neighbor's chin, looking between the two Autobots. Both glared at her with absolute loathing, their faces almost identical. Vera chuckled again. "Brothers, I believe."

Both of them looked surprised for a brief moment before yellow stripes pulled back sharply. "Leave us alone." He growled, trying to scare her off with his tone and glare, but Verasuvius wasn't even fazed.

"Oh, you too, huh?" she stood, grinning still, and turned to Ricochet. "I want them."

Ricochet eyed the brothers and the ugly looks they were giving the femme. "You sure?" he wondered.

"Yes, I am, and don't question me Ricochet." She replied lightly, and the red and black mech nodded.

"As you wish, ma'am."

The dark femme swept through the door and back inside, an attendant meeting her with a datapad to relay a message from higher command. Ricochet waved at the sets of soldiers on either end of the group and they pulled the Autobots to their feet, shoving them away toward a hovering transport to take them out and drop them into the Hole. Two of the soldiers drug Yellow and Red to their feet and pushed them towards Ricochet, who grinned.

"You two are in for it."

~0~

They had been taken up to the tallest tower of the fortress, where there was only one door out of the elevator, and beyond that a large, oval room with windows for walls and datacases on all but one side, where there was a door to another room. Ricochet tethered them down to a small port in the floor and grinned at them before turning to leave. He paused at the door.

"You two sit tight, make yourselves comfortable. Vera'll be up t'deal with ya when she gets done working." And the mech had the audacity to wink at them before letting the door seal and lock behind him.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker glared around the room suspiciously. It was a fairly open space, with a domed ceiling—also entirely window—two pristine and uncomfortable-looking couches facing each other in the middle with a short table between them, a small table with two chairs next to the window with the best view of the Sonic Canyon, and several datacases. Sideswipe inspected the fragile-looking crystals on top of the cases while Sunstreaker tested the glowing laser rope secured to his right arm. When it extended instead of pulling taut, he was able to walk all the way to the window before it stopped him short. He glanced out at the distant Hole, wondering if the other Autobots had already been thrown down there or if they were still traveling.

A flash of irritation welled in his spark and he stalked back to the center of the room to glare around again. Sideswipe glanced up from the fascinating crystal formation he had confiscated from the datacase.

~Wanna trash the place?~ he asked over their twin bond, wary of any surveillance equipment that might be in the room. Sunstreaker snorted, taking a step closer to the crimson couch and glaring down at it in disdain.

~Yup.~

Sideswipe lifted his arm to throw the mineral on the ground, Sunstreaker bending over, ready to flip the furniture. Before either could carry through, their tethers sent out a jolt of electricity, stunning them, and rapidly retracted. The twins crashed into each other with loud yelps, wrists stuck to the port in the floor.

"Slaggit!" Sunstreaker swore under his breath, pulling as hard as he could. The line wouldn't budge, though, and Sideswipe had just as much luck. They tried several things to get unstuck, but none of them remotely worked and they only ended up bickering over who wasn't doing what right.

Eventually they opted for sullen silence, and Sunstreaker felt that irritation stab at him again, this time strong enough for him to send the emotion to his brother.

~This is all your fault, you know.~ he accused. ~If you had kept your big mouth shut, we would be out there getting dropped instead of in here.~

The tether released abruptly and both twins pulled back to rub at their wrists. Sideswipe kept his gaze down. ~So what, we can take her. She's not that big.~

Sunstreaker glared at his brother. ~She's not stupid, either. You think she would have picked us if she didn't think she could handle us? You know what they say about her.~

Sideswipe shifted uncomfortably. ~Yeah, well, maybe she underestimated us. It's happened before.~

~Well we wouldn't have to worry about it at all if you hadn't said anything, would we.~

~Oh, come on. Everybody was thinking it.~ Sideswipe rolled his optics.

"That doesn't mean you had to say it!" Sunstreaker yelled out loud, tackling his twin with the sole intent of throttling him.

~0~

Much later, Ricochet accompanied Verasuvius up the access elevator, alternately handing her datapads and accepting datapads as she filled them out or skimmed the information they contained before delegating to the proper commander in her province.

"Drop-off go well?" She asked when they were about halfway up.

"Yup. Sent 'em off without a hitch an' got their reception message right on schedule. Tough day?"

Vera let out a hot, exasperated vent, wings drooping. "Thank Primus you don't have to deal with them, Ricochet." She grumbled, marking something on a datapad. "I mean, honestly, Starscream isn't even the worst of the lot. They're all like that if they can get away with it." She complained as the elevator slowed to a stop. "They go on and on and on about how _hard_ it is to find the Autobots, how they need more protection, more supplies, more energon," she handed off another pad as she typed in her code, "the whining just never stops! Primus forbid we actually ever coordinate or work together to get something done, or manage our resources properly, oh no! I imagine I'm in charge of this province for that very reason, because nobody else can manage worth…"

Vera stopped and blinked at the surly mechs in her living room, tirade abandoned. They glared back at her, arms crossed and posture defiant. "Oh. I forgot about you two." She admitted, irritation fading quickly. Ricochet was grinning at them again, lopsidedly, and they knew he was laughing at them.

"Think that'll cheer ya up?" he asked. A smile flitted across her face and her wings twitched up.

"I imagine it will." She handed him the last datapad. "Delegate for me, would you?"

"Sure thing, ma'am."

"Thanks." Vera murmured as her first lieutenant headed out the door again, subspacing the pads. He was still grinning.

The three mecha studied each other for a moment, the twins as hostile as they could silently be and Verasuvius amused as she looked up and down their frames, noticing some new dents and scratches. She smirked, cocking an optic ridge.

"Let off enough steam while I was out?" she asked.

"Frag off, glitch-face." Sunstreaker snarled.

A smile spread across the dark femme's face and both mechs shifted as she moved, but she walked past them, heading for the small table next to the windows. Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at her back. Even Sideswipe was a little surprised when he lunged. He didn't make it far, hitting the floor when the laser line stopped him short, and he growled at Verasuvius' unflinching wings. She glanced over her shoulder, still smiling.

"Careful," She admonished. Turning back, she tapped a spot on the floor next to the table with her foot. Well-oiled panels slid back and a circular energon dispenser rose out of the hole. "You boys need some energon, no doubt." She picked three blue cubes out of the colorful lineup and tossed two of them to the twins, still standing guardedly in the center of the room. They caught the objects reflexively and both stared at the cubes in awe and disgust before tossing them aside.

"We don't want your energon, freak." Sideswipe spat.

"No, I imagine you don't." she sat at the table and lifted a hand. "Oh well, maybe you'll change your minds later."

The two cubes, unbroken despite the fact that they had thrown them with some amount of force, rose up and floated back to her, settling on the table.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker exchanged a glance. That…wasn't normal.

~A trick?~ Sideswipe suggested.

~Has to be.~

"You two have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to show up. Really. I was sort of expecting word to get around sooner, and knowing your history I thought you two would be in need of somewhere to hide out and get repairs. What took so long?" Vera wondered, sipping her energon.

"What would you know about us and our 'history'?" Sideswipe sneered.

Verasuvius smiled. "Glad you asked, Sideswipe. I know all about you guys, how do you think I picked out you were brothers? Not _just_ brothers, though—split-spark twins, isn't that right? You used to be a trader, Sideswipe, a rather successful merchant in Polyhex, and Sunstreaker was an artist, a very good artist, once. That's all past now, though, has been for a long time. Now you're front-liners, or…you were, when the Autobots were still organized. Prolific fighters, too, I thought for sure you would have gotten in enough scrapes to need some repairs, but clearly you must have run into some of the other underground communities, Iacon, was it? Or maybe Praxus… they've got a pretty good medic over there, too. Ferric, I think."

~Trap. Don't admit to anything. If we say something it'll give away their positions.~ Sideswipe thought to his brother nervously. Both twins remained sulkily silent. Verasuvius grinned at them, setting her half-finished cube down.

"Alright then, I can see you're not going to trust me until I show you, so let's get a move on. I need to visit Hot Spot and the rest of your group, too." She stood up and the mechs tensed into fighting positions. At the snap of her fingers the laser ropes popped out of their mooring and flew to her hand. She tugged lightly. "Come on, we don't have all off-cycle, something's bound to come up and Jazz can't hold them off forever."

~Jazz? Wasn't that our third in command or something?~ Sideswipe wondered.

~Sounds right…~ Sunstreaker agreed.

~It's not the same Jazz, though, right? Can't be.~

Sunstreaker didn't reply, but his thoughts were unsure.

They didn't really have a choice about following her as the cords retracted. They weren't completely opposed to the idea, at least until the second door opened. Then they were suddenly very opposed. Almost at the same time they dove for opposite sides of the door. Instead of dragging Verasuvius back, the cord stopped retracting and let them go and from inside the darkened room the femme laughed.

"That's one of the more coordinated evasion tactics I've seen." She chuckled. "But honestly, it's the only way to get to the elevator, so you're both going to have to get over it."

"The elevator's over there, glitch." Sideswipe threw back, trying to anchor himself with a datacase while Sunstreaker clung to the small table. Verasuvius stepped out to appraise the situation.

"Yeah, the one that leads to the _Decepticon_ base is over there. If you're going to get to the Sonic Canyon community you have to go through this one in here. It's a little bit sensitive, being just about the biggest secret on the planet, which is why it's hidden in my berthroom. You can come quietly or I can drag you there, your choice."

"Or we could just beat the living slag out of you." Sideswipe suggested.

"Yeah, and then what? Even if you got that far, which you wouldn't, neither elevator would respond to you and you'd be stuck until Jazz came back and kicked your afts. So, make a choice."

Vera leaned against her doorframe as she waited, very aware of the silent conversation passing between them, though she didn't pry too much.

"Alright, time's up, come on." She said after several astro-seconds, and turned to head for the far end of the smaller room. Neither twin budged.

"Come and get us, fragger." Sunstreaker growled.

"Don't have to."

The next moment both mechs found themselves on the floor inside the dim room next to her pedes as she tapped on a translucent keypad on the tinted window. The pad blinked out as Sunstreaker tried to get up with a snarl, but he wasn't as steady as usual and the floor dropped beneath him, making him fall over again. Verasuvius grinned down at him, only it wasn't Verasuvius anymore. The femme was now grey and blue, lacking the prominent wings on her back, and much less boldly feminine.

"Who the slag _are_ you?" Sideswipe demanded, shakily getting to his feet.

"My name is Star Nova. Yes, I am an Autobot."


	3. Community

She received identical mistrustful glares, but allowed the incredulous silence to extend until Sunstreaker said, "You're joking."

There was enough space for the twins to stand a comfortable distance away from the strange femme and they did so, silently bouncing theories and information across their bond.

"But… Verasuvius has been in charge of the Tagan Heights for vorns." Sideswipe objected.

"Yes, she has. And if you will recall, the Sonic Canyon community has been around for the same amount of time. This… was the best I could do, after we lost Optimus." She explained quietly. "Jazz and I protect them as well as we can, and we've been siphoning a percentage of the Tagan Heights production ever since it began." She smiled. "I can happily report that the Sonic Canyon community is the best supplied community of Autobots on the planet, not that it's saying very much." She shrugged. "We gather intelligence, too, and Jazz passes it on to Hot Spot who gets it to Prowl any way he can."

The twins continued to stare. "You're joking." Sunstreaker deadpanned again.

"Nope. Not at all, my friend."

"But… what about your reputation? What about, you know, 'Bots like us?"

"You mean the 'Bots I keep back?" Sideswipe nodded and she shrugged. "I've had Jazz to talk to for a good portion of my time here, but it does get kind of lonely, being the only two Autobots around, and I like hearing what's going on from an individual's point of view, especially now that we have a Prime again."

Both mechs scowled. "He's not our Prime." Sunstreaker growled.

Star smiled gently. "He's _my_ Prime. The Matrix chose him to be. And frankly, you guys, we need him and if we don't unite under him we'll never get anywhere."

The twins scowled deeper, the blue lights running down the elevator shaft glinting off their faces.

The rest of the trip was silent, but it was only a few more seconds before the floor slowed to a stop and the wall on one side slid open.

Beyond it there was an entire city, thriving beneath the Decepticon city above. There were Autobots, so many Autobots, moving around and going about their business. It was almost a real, actual _base_. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had obviously heard of the place, but nothing could have prepared them for the reality of it. It was just like the good old days, in the early war, when they had been an army. When they'd actually had a hope of winning.

"Stay close to me, you still need to go through orientation." Star ordered. It was a little redundant, since they had laser cables around their wrists, but they didn't protest. There was a red and white mech waiting for her when they stepped out of the elevator, falling into step with them while the twins craned their necks to take in the sights. Sunstreaker eyed the mech's paint job. He had obviously been here for a while, to have a paint job like that. He handed the femme a datapad and Star accepted it with a smile.

"Ah, Red Alert, good to see you. I imagine everything is going well, as usual." She greeted as she perused the contents of the pad. Red Alert nodded, glancing over the larger mechs following her as they walked, and then he turned his attention back on the femme.

"Star." He said.

"Yeah?" she answered, and then abruptly stopped and turned around to stare at the mech. Sideswipe stopped short and backed up a step, frowning. Red Alert didn't seem bothered by the odd look she was giving him.

"I wish to join the Prime in Iacon." The mech said quietly, almost drowned out by the constant noise of the nearby canyon. His voice was rough from disuse.

Star nodded, starting to smile. "I'm glad to hear it, and I'm sure he and the others will welcome you. I'll have Hot Spot pass the message on that you're coming. I admit, though, we'll miss you here."

Red Alert tilted his helm. "Streetwise is trained to handle the security network. I believe he will suffice in my absence."

Star was grinning now. "I believe you are correct. When are you heading out?"

"As soon as I can. Most likely within the decacycle."

"Alright, thanks for the warning. Good luck, if I don't get to see you again."

Red Alert nodded, and then went his way. Star watched him go for several kliks, shaking her helm, before she turned to quickly stride away, tugging the twins after her. They entered a large structure near the elevator, which turned out to be a real, stationary med-bay, and Star hurried all the way to the back and into an operating room where a boxy white and red medic with a black chevron was intently working on a mech's arm.

"Ratchet, guess what just happened!" Star demanded excitedly.

Ratchet gave her an irritated glance as she bounced over and reached into his patient's open panel to start moving wires out of his way.

"Red Alert just spoke to me." She announced, and the medic looked up again, this time with surprise.

"He spoke?"

"Yeah, five whole sentences. He's heading out to Iacon to help the Prime."

Ratchet hummed, returning to his work. "Good for him. I need to be heading out soon, as well. There are reports of open conflict now."

"Yes, I just received them. With two excellent medics here, they must be lacking, and we don't really need both of you." Star admitted.

"No, we don't. When will Red be leaving?" Ratchet asked absently as he moved to get a better angle.

"Within the decacycle, he said."

The medic grunted and withdrew, along with Star, to close up the panel. "Good as new. Don't slag it up again, got it?"

"Yes, Ratchet." The mech mumbled as he tested the repair. Star snatched Sideswipe out of the way when the stocky mech nearly ran into him as he left.

"What the frag?" Sideswipe snapped, pulling out of her grip.

"He can't see you." Star explained. "Nobody who doesn't know about Verasuvius can. I wouldn't be a very good secret keeper if I traipsed around the base with you, would I?" she smirked, and then gestured to the medic. "Anyway, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, this is Ratchet, our senior medic and CMO, though we're apparently going to be losing him soon. Red Alert is our security director, he's been here since the Community was a little group of ten mecha, and he hasn't spoken more than ten words since Prime died, until now. It's kind of a miracle. We were starting to think he was permanently damaged by the event." She mused while Ratchet cleaned up his operating tools.

"Alright, you two, get on the berth." The medic ordered when he turned back around, a different set of tools in hand. The laser cords finally disappeared from their wrists and Star put the anchor in subspace. The twins grudgingly complied, under threat of the medic's glare of death.

"So how this usually goes is I borrow a 'Bot or two from the lineup and bring them down myself so we can talk for a while, but you understand that my position is a closely held secret and I need your silence and your assistance in keeping my cover good. Agreed?" Star asked the brothers as Ratchet began their check-up.

"What if we say no?" Sunstreaker asked, unimpressed.

"I secure your silence by other means." Star grinned pleasantly at him. "A missing memory almost speaks louder than any story you agree upon." The surly twin turned away after a moment, not sure if she was joking or not. "After we've talked you get to stay in the med-bay overnight and in the morning I drop a couple dummies down the Hole, which Hot Spot rushes to the med-bay before you two magically emerge in pristine condition, courtesy of Ratchet's handiwork, with whatever horror story you concoct. Verasuvius gets her reputation, I get to talk to some newcomers, and you two don't get slagged. Everybody wins."

The twins were silent for a few seconds as Ratchet scanned them both thoroughly.

"So… we don't get to do the drop?" Sideswipe asked after a moment.

Star cocked her helm. "I suppose… if you _want_ to do the drop, we can arrange it. Most mecha want to avoid it if they can."

Sideswipe grinned at her. "We were kind of looking forward to it."

Star returned the smile. "Well then, I guess you'll come back up with me when I'm done talking to Hot Spot and the rest of your group, which gives us all night. I'll be off then. I don't get to come down often or for very long, so the more time I have the better. See you boys later. Bye, Ratchet."

The medic grunted in return, but the femme was gone by then.

"She's kinda weird, isn't she." Sideswipe said speculatively.

"To do what she has to do and make it work for as long as she has? She has to be. It's a miracle she's not completely insane." Ratchet retorted. "So just be grateful for it. You probably wouldn't be alive right now if it were any other way."


	4. The Plan

Hot Spot, being base commander, was in on the fact that Star was Verasuvius, along with the rest of his brothers, who were all officers in some capacity. The meeting usually consisted of them and Red Alert and a couple others also in on the secret, but today Red was absent. Business proceeded as usual, with the meeting and then with orientation of the new group that had been dropped down the Hole. While Star was telling them about their supply silo, Smokescreen lifted a hand to ask, "So how do we get all this stuff?"

"We have our ways of siphoning off the Tagan Heights without detection." Star explained with a smirk.

"They must not be very attentive if we can take so much without getting noticed." He said, perhaps a bit suspicious. "But from what I've heard, this Verasuvius does not have that issue."

Streetwise exchanged a glance with Hot Spot. Star's smirk turned into a grin.

"You'd be surprised." She told him. "Trust me, Smokescreen, we've been doing this for a long time now."

The Praxian subsided and the tour carried on, nobody thinking anything of it. And that was exactly how Star wanted it.

Once orientation was done Star checked the supplies, moving between facilities and talking to as many mecha as she could to be sure she understood what was needed before she returned to the med-bay, where the twins were just finishing their paint jobs. Sunstreaker seemed much more relaxed as he gave himself a last once-over in the full length mirror. Sideswipe joined him to sling an arm over his brother's shoulder.

"Mech, we look good."

Sunstreaker batted his twin away. "One of us does, at least, and don't scuff my paint job."

"You two done? We need to head back up."

Both twins jerked around at the voice to find Star leaning against the door of the back room they were relegated to hanging out in. They were still unsure of the strange femme and gave her guarded looks.

"Yeah, I guess we are." Sideswipe answered finally.

"Great. Come on, then." She moved to the back wall, where there was no door, and pressed her palm to it. A door-sized panel appeared and slid to the side. She disappeared into the dimly lit hallway beyond without a backwards glance, and the twins looked at each other before the red mech shrugged, and both moved to follow.

At the end of the hallway the wall drew back to let them into the elevator again, and Sideswipe paused to look down the dark, branching tunnel to the right.

"Where's that one go?" he asked.

"Further into the catacombs. It's an emergency escape route, if we ever need one. _Primus forbid_." Star muttered. The wall closed behind the red twin and the elevator started moving up quickly. They were back in the dim berthroom in the matter of a breem, but before either mech could move Star grabbed their shoulders to hold them still, cocking her helm as if listening. After a moment she released them.

"We're clear." She announced, heading for the door to the living room beyond.

"Clear?" Sunstreaker asked suspiciously.

"We have to be pretty paranoid around here. If anybody so much as begins to suspect…it could be catastrophic for the community. That's why I need your complete silence on the matter." Star explained as she moved to the small table by the windows. "So." She turned to them, one optic ridge raised and a cube of energon in each hand. " _Now_ do you want some energon?"

The red and yellow mechs exchanged a glance and then Sideswipe held out both hands like a sparkling pleading for candy. "Yes."

~0~

She asked the right questions at the right time, and the twins opened up to her—Sideswipe did at least—eagerly telling her their story since Optimus Prime had died, and their favorite battle tales after that. Having plenty of energon in their systems relaxed them enough that they turned back into the twins Star had heard about; lively, confident, and completely at ease with everything around them. Once they'd finally exhausted their story repertoire, Sunstreaker gave the femme on the couch across from them a narrow look.

"What about you?" he asked. "There anything bigger going on here than the Sonic Canyon? All these resources and information at your disposal, what are you doing with it?"

Star leveled a very serious gaze at the yellow twin, and then the red one. Then she smiled wryly. "Half a vorn ago I would have had no answer for you. Thunderous changed that."

Both mechs soured.

"Don't give me those looks, you know he's changed the game. He's shaken the Decepticon's foundations with what he did. Ours too, admittedly. But honestly, before we had a Prime the whole point of this _was_ the community. We didn't have any plan besides that. We had no one to offer the resources to except for the individual troops in the province. Since we have a leader again, we have someone to give it to." Star contemplated the slightly sullen mechs for a few moments before leaning forward, setting her cube of energon down. It was still about half full while Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had already drained their second cubes.

"We have a plan now, but before I tell you I need to know that I have your silence."

Their silent conversation was private again as Star kept her mind carefully to herself, reading only their honest intent when they turned back to her.

"Alright. We'll keep our mouths shut. What's the plan?" Sideswipe asked eagerly.

Star smirked, leaning back. "Hot Spot has kept in contact with Prowl, and Thunderous Prime through him. We're still hammering out the details, but within the vorn we're taking the Tagan Heights for the Autobots. It will be the first Autobot province since Iacon fell."

Both mech's optics widened. "How?" Sunstreaker wondered.

The femme grinned widely at them. "Come on, you guys. I'm Verasuvius. I _own_ this province. We don't get much attention because we're only good for manufacturing, so basically I am the supreme commander around here. I can make stuff happen. I can weaken the defenses until the cost of taking it will be relatively tiny. I've already started, and once we take it back I can accelerate production to almost double what it is now. We're ignored, but we provide over half of the Decepticon's manufactured goods. When they lose it, it will be nothing to scoff at, and we can immediately start funneling 100% of what we make into the Autobot cause. We'll have somewhere safe to gather again. We'll have a chance again. This province is the first step." She practically glowed with hope as she explained it, and it was infectious, but the twins knew better than to hope like that by now.

"What's the catch?" Sunstreaker asked.

Star shrugged, leaning back. "The Prime's security and position are much less stable than ours. Maintaining constant or even regular communication is practically impossible. We have to be exceptionally paranoid to keep the information from falling into the wrong hands. It makes planning slow, but we're getting there. It will be within the vorn. We also only get one chance to make this work, and we can't afford to miss this opportunity under any circumstances. But with Jazz and I working our magic here, an entire army lurking beneath the province with full access to the Sonic Canyon catacomb maze, and a Prime to lead us again, I have complete faith in our ability to do so."

The twins were quiet as they thought about it. "It sounds amazing." Sideswipe finally admitted.

"Yes." Star agreed.

"So who's this Jazz?" Sunstreaker asked after a moment. Star grinned.

"Speak of the devil…" She started as the door behind her opened to let a red and black mech with crimson optics in.

"An' he shall appear!" The mech finished as the twins pinned him with identical mistrustful glares. "You talkin' about me behind m'back again, Star?"

"Of course." The femme sat back, putting her pedes up on the short table between the couches. Ricochet sauntered over, a blue visor slipping down over his optics, grinning.

"Well then, I expect our guests to have a pretty good opinion of me." He hopped over the back of the couch and bounced gently in the surprisingly soft cushions next to the femme. "So y'came back up. I don' think that's ever happened before." He said to the twins.

Star crossed her arms over her chest. "Nope. Any trouble?"

Jazz sighed dramatically. "The resources manager from Altihex is gettin' his gears in a twist again, but otherwise it's a pretty quiet cycle, for once."

"That's good. You can hang out with us, then."

The mech grinned. "That's what I was hopin' for."

The twins were giving him hard looks, and finally the mech properly introduced himself with a jaunty salute. "Autobot Jazz, formerly third in command of the Autobot army under Optimus Prime, currently working undercover as Ricochet, second in command of the Tagan Heights province under Verasuvius."

"How long have _you_ been here?" Sideswipe asked.

Jazz grinned lopsidedly. "Twelve vorns, just about."

Stories were exchanged some more, and then when the conversation wound down again Star asked, "Well, anybody got any ideas of what to do for the next few joors before I get to drop you two off?"

They contemplated for a moment before a devilish grin spread over Sideswipe's face. "You got any high grade? I know a pretty awesome drinking game."

Star let her own devilish grin appear. Jazz groaned.

"Hold on, I'll go get some." The femme said.

"You should be warned, Star don't get drunk." Jazz told the brothers while she was up.

"Hah! Everyone can get drunk. You just have to get enough high grade into them." Sideswipe retorted.

Jazz solemnly shook his head. "Naw, mech. She don't get drunk. I've tried the stuff she drinks, an' if that don't make ya drunk then nothin' will."

Star came back with four cubes, three an electric blue and one an odd green-blue color. She set them down on the table and gently pushed Jazz's helm to the side on the way back to her seat. "Hey, play well enough and maybe I'll go into sensory overload and you can tell everyone you beat me in a drinking game."

"Like that'll happen." The mech scoffed. "I've seen you drink three of those and walk across the room without stumblin' once."

Star grinned as she popped open her cube and took the first sip. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker eagerly took their first gulps as well, grinning at the pleasant buzz that spread through their systems, optics brightening.

"Alright then, boys, how do you play this game?" Star asked.

~0~

Seven joors later Star, frame black and optics red again, gently lifted Jazz's head off her lap and got up to retrieve three vials from the dispenser before returning to shake the twins awake. Both mechs groaned, Sideswipe putting a hand to his head while Sunstreaker buried his in his arms.

"Drink this." Star told them, offering a small vial of clear liquid to each. Blearily, they obeyed, and then gagged at the after-taste.

"That is _nasty_ stuff." Sideswipe complained, though quietly.

"Well, it's that or spend the rest of the cycle with a hangover, and getting dropped down the Hole with an extreme sensitivity to light and noise would not be the fun experience you were hoping for. Besides, if you got there and Ratchet found out you were hung over, he'd throw a fit at me. After he threw one at you."

Sideswipe sat up, frowning, and his brother rolled over, almost falling right off the couch, to return the look before smirking. They both got to their feet and stretched, headaches completely gone already and the rest of the symptoms fading fast. "Sooo, what was that stuff?" the red mech asked.

"Ha, nice try." The femme retorted, stepping back over with small disks that she attached to their chestplates. Their forms flickered as the holograms engaged, and both mechs looked over the damage, Sunstreaker with distaste evident on his face.

"Yikes. Is this what everyone you drop in the Hole looks like?" Sideswipe asked, inspecting his mangled arm.

"It's what the dummies look like." Star replied, pulling the laser line port from subspace and looping the cords around their chests. "Now, just stay as limp as you can while I fly you out there, and once I drop you try to wait a bit before you move; the ridge guards can still see you until you get below the rim. You'll still have plenty of time to enjoy the fall, don't worry." She ordered, leading them towards the window wall next to the small table. "Are you ready?" she asked, testing the cords with a gentle tug.

The twins nodded. "Yup."

"Alright then, brace yourselves."

Star turned and ran at the window, diving right through the liquid force field and transforming. The laser lines locked, jerking the two mechs after her. The flight was over too quick, in their opinion, but then the Hole was yawning wide and loud and bright beneath them. The jet curved back the way she had come, waiting for them to come out of the swing before disengaging the lines. The twins fell, straight and neat into the Hole, and Verasuvius circled a few times, watching, before streaking back to her tower with a chuckle to wake up Ricochet and start the new day.

The incredible noise of the canyon drowned out both mechs' enthusiastic whoops as they fell.

~I'm really not sure how this day could get any better!~ Sideswipe thought to his brother.

~Me neither!~ Sunstreaker agreed.

~0~

Jazz gulped down the nasty-tasting liquid, grimaced, and then shook his helm while Vera finished cleaning up the last of the mess. Once the miraculous potion had done its work, the 2IC tilted his helm at his commander.

"So. You record all that?" he asked.

Vera placed a crystal formation back on top of a datacase and turned back to him with an absolutely wicked smile, leaving no doubt in the saboteur's mind at how much embarrassment she had caught. "Need you ask?"


	5. Prisoners of War

Things proceeded normally for a while after that. As more and more Decepticon troops were pulled out of their province to fight Thunderous and his Autobots in the Iacon region, the Tagan Heights patrols caught fewer groups of Autobots, which suited everybody just fine. Meanwhile, the Autobot canyon community stabilized at something of half its peak population, and then dropped a decacycle later to only a quarter. Star and Jazz were pleased to hear that it had been the twins that had worked the exodus. They were heading for Iacon, carrying news to the Prime and the next communication regarding their plan to take over the province. Hot Spot wasn't sure what they had said to turn so many mecha to the cause, but it had been very effective.

Their plan was working itself out steadily. They had all the details in place, except for a date to attack. They were waiting for favorable circumstances that didn't want to come. Still, things were happening. Thunderous was gaining ground, even if it was just inches.

And then disaster struck.

One mech came back, one from the group the twins had taken with them. He carried a single data pad and two data chips. He died only a joor after he collapsed in the tunnel Streetwise was patrolling. Hot Spot received the information he had been carrying, and reviewed it with his brother. They stared at the report for a long time. Then Hot Spot made a decision.

~0~

Verasuvius turned her helm, distracted for an instant. Ricochet capitalized on the moment, swinging fast and hard.

But not fast enough.

The dark femme twitched back, his fist breezing past her cheek. She grabbed his forearm, stepping away from his lunge. She rammed her hand into his abdomen. He flipped over and she slammed him to the ground. The troops in for training winced, oooohing at the mech's pain, and then cheered while Ricochet stayed spread eagle, trying to force his systems to function properly after the jarring impact. Vera stood, looking off toward the main base complex with a frown.

"That hurt." Ricochet commented, groaning as he started getting up.

The femme abruptly knelt. "Something's come up. Hold the fort." She ordered. He gave her a curious glance, but she was already igniting her engines, flying off to deal with the problem. Ricochet watched her go, and then rolled to his feet, shaking off the last effects of their sparring match.

"A'right, who's first?" he asked, grinning at the poor 'Cons lined up for punishment.

~0~

Star transformed as she passed through the window of her tower, landing with a light thump just as the door to her room opened to admit Streetwise with a datapad. He looked shaken, a frown across his face and visor dimmed. Something was very wrong.

Star felt her spark sinking quickly, fearing the worst.

"Delivery." Streetwise said plainly. "Dude that delivered it's dead already." He held out the data pad and she took it, activating it immediately.

"We'll be waiting." The security director said quietly, heading back to the elevator.

Star read the description of the attack, tanks churning in dread, and was relieved to find that Thunderous was perfectly functional, releasing some of her suspense, though she'd been fairly certain from the beginning that he was. She would have felt something if he'd been too badly damaged.

Then she got to the casualty, MIA, and confirmed POW lists.

She found the closest chair by the small table and sank into it slowly, optics glued to the screen. She let her hands fall slowly to the table and stared at the wall for a while, blankly disbelieving, before she turned almost automatically to the energon dispenser rising out of the floor. She had to _know_. She had to find them. She had to.

~0~

Almost three joors later, Ricochet was still waiting, and the ambassadors he was waiting with for their routine video conference were even less patient than he was. He tried to keep them calm, but it was difficult with Decepticons, and especially with these Decepticons.

"Is your commander coming or not?" Ratbat snarled, and Ricochet sighed.

"Alright, keep your armor on, I'll go get her." He said, quickly padding out of the conference room. He was riding the elevator up to her quarters a minute later, frowning at her off-lined comm and starting to really worry.

~0~

The energy gave her reach. It expanded her. Jazz thought it served as her version of high grade, but it was more than that. It let her search the planet without moving from her spot at the table. She started at the site of the battle, and she worked through the layers of the planet, hopping from location to location, places she thought it was possible they could be. Then she moved to less likely places, becoming more desperate and less hopeful with every area she explored that didn't have what she was looking for.

Eventually she ran out of ideas and she stopped searching, coming back to herself for a moment. She stared at the empty cube in her hands for several second, and then threw it with all her might. It shattered against the wall quite satisfyingly, so she threw the other four cubes as well, and still didn't feel any better. Star rested her elbows on the table and her head in her hands miserably.

"Primus." She whispered. "Why is it like this? It was never meant to be like this."

There was no answer, only a smothering quiet, so she let her mind spread out, resting on and around and through the planet and everything on it, letting the noise of a thousand living organisms thinking and doing and being absorb her awareness until she was no longer Star and she no longer felt anything, awash in the sea of emotion and cognizance that wasn't her own.

She didn't come out of it until someone was shaking her shoulder, and blearily she lifted her head out of the pillow she had made of her arms, focusing slowly on a familiar red and black figure. Jazz gave her a concerned look.

"What happened?"

Star turned away and gestured to the other chair, rather unsteadily. "Sit." She ordered.

Cautiously, Jazz sat, and when she pushed the datapad at him he stared at it, very certain he really didn't want to read whatever was on it. He looked back to Star, but her acid green optics were trained on the Hole. She'd been drinking a lot to have that shade of optics.

He definitely did not want to read this pad.

But eventually he took it and activated it and slowly began to read. Nothing was too bad.

Until he got to the confirmed POW list.

His face went slack in shock and horror, and then he started shaking his head. "No. No, they're wrong. They gotta be wrong."

Star dropped her gaze to the floor, still not looking at him.

"They're WRONG!" Jazz insisted, slamming the pad down on the table. "Not Prowl! Not Prowler." His optics fell to the screen, dancing over the characters that spelled out his friend's name, right next to Sideswipe's and Sunstreaker's. "Star," he said, lifting his head and grabbing her wrist so she would _look_ at him instead of stare hopelessly at the ground. "You gotta find him. Please?"

Her face was so sad. "I tried, Jazz." She told him softly, pulling his hand off to hold it between both of hers. "And I couldn't. I'm sorry."

"But…" he sputtered. "But…" he looked back to the pad, stared at it for a moment, and then off-lined his optics and let his head hit the table. "But it's Prowler." He whispered, plaintively. "We can't _do_ this without him…"

Star reached out to touch his shoulder. "I know." She murmured back. After a minute she put his hand down and stood. "Stay as long as you need." She told him.

On the way down in the elevator, she composed herself. Star Nova could be devastated, but Verasuvius could not.

"About time." Ratbat hissed as she strode into the conference room.

"Ambassadors." She greeted with her usual formality, taking her seat in front of the view screens.

"Where's Ricochet?" Staxx wondered suspiciously.

"Attending to something that requires constant attention from at least one of us." Verasuvius almost snapped back, irritation flashing across her face. "Something I would rather get back to as soon as I can, so if you wouldn't mind being succinct and quick, gentlemechs, you might get your messages through before I disconnect." She gestured for Ratbat to proceed, and he glared, but did so. They all knew better than to mess with the femme while she was in this sort of mood, and they knew she _would_ hang up on them if she didn't feel they were being fast enough.

It was still two joors later when Verasuvius was able to head back up to her quarters.

The lights were off and the windows were tinted almost black, not that she needed light to see. Jazz was passed out on one of the couches, a few empty cubes on the floor next to his dangling arm. Star sighed and knelt down next to him, resting a hand on his helm.

"I am so sorry." She whispered.

The mech didn't stir, as she knew he wouldn't, and after a minute she set a small vial of clear liquid on the table between the couches and then headed for her room and the elevator.

They had a lot of planning to do to fix this. After all, nobody ever came back from being a prisoner of war. Not anymore. Never in one piece.

And rarely even recognizable if they did recover the body.

~0~

In the morning Jazz was gone and Ricochet was attending to his duties. Life went on, but not as it had before. Something was different. True to their skill, nobody else saw anything change in the Tagan Heights commander and her second, but they could sense it in each other.

They were done; done being here, done playing this game, done sitting snuggly at home and coordinating behind the scenes while the other Autobots fought and bled and died. Their inability to help any other way had always been a slow burn, tempered by the knowledge of how many resources they provided with their control of the manufacturing province, but now that knowledge wasn't enough and their fight roared to life. For Jazz, it was a constant struggle to contain himself, to not just up and leave. Star understood. She let him handle more of the contact with Hot Spot, sent him downstairs more often. She established more aggressive contact with Thunderous and she pushed for them to get the ball rolling on this. He responded, and worked his way closer to the Tagan Heights, but he was still cautious.

Jazz was not, and as time dragged on he became increasingly restless. More and more often he would stalk through the dark halls of the complex during the off-cycle, quietly walking it off, but it didn't help for long. He needed to get out there and _do_ something—actually, _physically_ do something. But he couldn't, he was stuck here. Even though it wasn't in Jazz's nature to get frustrated, he chafed under that restriction as he never had before.

Until one night, as he slunk down the hall trying to burn off some agitation, another shadow fell in behind him. It took him far too long to notice, and in fact he didn't until the other shadow reached forward and tapped him on the shoulder.

Vera stood back as her second spazzed, and then glared at her, a frustrated glower that was becoming all too familiar, though he usually didn't direct it at her. She nodded her head for him to follow her and he did, silent down the halls and up the elevator and into her quarters and to the small table by the window, where they both sat. She offered him a glass of bright blue energon—not quite high grade, but not normal grade either. She took one as well, and they sat there for a while.

Jazz wasn't sure if she had something to say or if she'd just been getting him out of the halls, so he tried to relax and sit back. Her gaze was trained on the light pouring out of the Hole, and Jazz wondered again, as he had many times before, what it was that she saw that fascinated her so, that could hold her attention for hours on end. All he saw was a bunch of light. Hardly entertaining, in his understanding of the word.

It didn't take long for him to start getting restless again, but still he waited.

Finally, the femme lifted her gaze to the dark sky. "I could make Ricochet disappear." She said quietly, and then turned to look at him, a little sad. "If he wanted to."

Jazz's optics widened as he sat up, a grin spreading across his face. "Really? You'd let me go?"

Star nodded, lips quirking into a lopsided smile at how he lit up. "If you want to."

Jazz was over both moons for all of ten seconds, and then his face fell. "Wait, what about you? You gotta stay."

The dark femme nodded, looking back out the window, trying not to show how hard this was for her. "I must stay until it's over. But I started alone. I can finish alone."

Jazz sat back, and found that the decision was difficult. He thought he would have jumped at the chance to leave and never looked back, but…

"What d' _you_ want me to do?" he asked.

Star looked at him reproachfully. They both knew the answer to that question, of course, but Jazz wanted to see what she would actually say.

"I want you… to do what you feel you need to." She said, expertly shifting the entire decision onto him. She didn't want her feelings to impede him. She would let him go. Even though she wanted him to stay.

Something clicked back into place for Jazz and he leaned back, putting his pedes up on the table and his hands behind his head. "Nah." He grinned at Star's surprised expression. "I ain't leavin' you to go it alone in this livin' Pit. No way, no how." The grin left as the mech became serious. "You started this mission alone, Star, but we're gonna see it to the end together. I promise."

She relaxed and smiled at him, a relieved and delighted sparkle in her red optics. "Thank you, Jazz."

"No problem." He replied easily. "Thanks for givin' me a choice."

And it was the choice that healed him somewhat. It made life bearable again. Knowing he could go if he wanted to and making it his own decision to stay stabilized him. He started recharging regularly again, and threw his entire self into making sure everything would be as good as it could be for Thunderous when they attacked and took the province. He did it for Star and his Prime.

But mostly he did it for Prowl.


	6. Complication

It seemed that after almost thirteen Vorns of letting them be and work in peace, the universe wanted to throw them as many curve balls in as short a time period as possible. He came one deca-orn after Jazz's decision to stay and about one and a half deca-orns before the day they had chosen to take the Tagan Heights. There was no notice, no warning, and the first Verasuvius and Ricochet heard of it was when their border patrol radioed in that there was a seeker contingent heading for the capitol, e.t.a. one joor. Both commanders were there to greet the group of twenty as they transformed and landed in the large courtyard outside the main fortress.

"Lord Starscream." Verasuvius greeted, and she bowed low, as tradition dictated. "It is an honor."

"Yes, yes, you can get up now." The Decepticon commander waved at her dismissively, looking both irritated and pleased with the short hail.

"If I may ask, what brings you to my humble province without an announcement?" the femme asked, straightening but keeping her wings and gaze respectfully lowered.

"Surprise inspection, is that a problem?" Starscream sneered down at her.

"Not at all, my Lord. What would you like to see first?"

"The weapons facility."

"Ah, and may I ask, my Lord, how long you intend to stay?"

"Until I want to leave." Starscream snapped back. "Can we get on with this?"

The dark femme nodded. "Of course, my Lord. Right this way." Vera gestured behind herself to the door, bowing slightly again, and then turned to her first lieutenant. "Ricochet, deal with anything that comes up while I show our illustrious commander around, and have suitable quarters prepared for him and his company."

Ricochet saluted and hurried off, trying to keep his frame relaxed.

~0~

/This is where we mold the metal./ The noise in the factory was deafening. Everybody had given up talking out loud around the huge machinery ages ago. /It runs all cycle every cycle except once every three deca-cycles when we shut down one half and then the other half of it for maintenance and upgrades./ The Province Commander explained as she led the small group along the catwalks above the working floor. Heat rolled around them in waves as molten metal was poured into the molds. /We produce over 3,000 tons of weapons and ammunition in half a deca-cycle, assuming none of the machinery needs non-routine maintenance. Research and Development have their own smaller production facility next door./ she gestured in the right direction. /Large artillery is constructed in the right wing,/ she gestured again, /standard issues and mid-size in the left wing,/ another wave of her hand, /and anything explosive is made in the building directly North of this one./

/How come they're separated?/ Skywarp asked as he curiously watched the work being done.

Verasuvius smirked. /We had…an incident. This is much safer for everybody and the machinery./ the black femme turned to the Decepticon commander. /Any questions, my Lord?/

Starscream studied the production lines critically. /I want output increased by 20%. How soon can you accomplish that?/

/Output for everything or something in particular?/ She asked, pursing her lips.

/Everything./ The larger seeker turned to regard her narrowly.

Verasuvius hesitated. /I would have to check with my engineers, but I expect, based on our previous success and current capabilities, that it would take roughly three quarters of a vorn./

/Then you have a quarter./ Starscream retorted, turning away and heading off toward something he saw that interested him.

Verasuvius followed, trying to appeal to the Commander's more scientific side. /Lord Starscream, with all due respect, you must understand that there are limitations to how hard we can push the machines and how fast we can upgrade them while maintaining production at any level, a quarter vorn is an _extremely_ enterprising deadline—/

Starscream whirled around, backhanding the femme heavily across the face. She stumbled back in shock, her hand flying to the new dent.

/Are you questioning my orders, femme?/ Starscream growled dangerously.

Verasuvius dropped her gaze and wings submissively. /No, my Lord./

/Good./ the larger seeker nodded. /You have a quarter of a vorn. Now show me this R&D you mentioned./

The Tagan Heights Province Manager quickly complied, leading the group forward and out of the building.

From the production floor where he was checking with the shift manager for any issues, Ricochet watched them go with optics narrowed to hateful slits, but the expression dropped as soon as he turned back to the mech he had been talking to.

~0~

They went through almost every facility in the Tagan Heights, and everywhere they went Starscream either had no comment to make or some criticism for the Province Manager. He demanded more of every production line, and Verasuvius promised it with optics lowered, for fear that he would recognize the lack of respect in them if she looked at him. Eventually the day was over, but it felt like an eternity. Ricochet saved her from having to escort Starscream and his entourage to their quarters by citing a problem in the explosives facility that required her attention, and she escaped the other seekers gratefully.

The problem wasn't a fabrication, but once it had been dealt with Verasuvius retired immediately to her quarters while Ricochet finished the last bit of work he had left over.

When he stepped through the door to her quarters, it took him a moment to locate the femme. She was sitting on the far side of one of the data-cases, helm resting against the smooth metal and optics offline while her hands worked over a rough crystal formation, molding it into an interesting geometric shape and revealing the swirling colors within it. When Jazz walked over, visor slipping down, and crouched in front of her, she on-lined her optics but kept the left side of her face turned toward the data-case.

She half-smiled tiredly at him. "I hope your day wasn't as horrible as mine." She said.

Jazz's grim frown didn't let up as he shifted into a kneeling position and reached out. "Let me see it."

Star sighed, but let him turn her head and gently run his thumb over the damage, giving him another half-smile since any movement on that side of her face hurt. "News travels fast, eh?"

"Actually, I didn' hear anybody talkin' 'bout it all cycle. Guess everybody's too scared to." The red and black mech shrugged.

She turned to look at him straight on, smile turning down. "Then how did you know?"

"I saw the whole thing." He admitted, keeping her face cupped in both hands. "How come y'didn' go to th'med-bay?"

"I'm waiting for it to pop out on its own. I don't know why it's taking so long." She cycled out another deep vent, shuttering her optics for a second, and then reached up and wrapped a hand around his wrist, meeting his gaze again. "How are you doing?" she asked quietly.

The saboteur grunted, pulling back to step over her legs, settling against the wall beside her. "No better'n you, I imagine. What's the game plan?"

"Hah." Star let out a short laugh. "Warn Thunderous that Scream and Warp are here, and then wait."

"Wait? That's it?" Jazz complained, and then canted a glance at the dark femme, leaning closer and lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Sure we can't try something else while he's here?"

"If you're suggesting what I think you are, the answer is a resounding no. Don't even go there, Jazz. Him being here is dangerous enough on its own; I already found three different monitoring devices in here today, if something… untoward were to happen while he was in our province, the slag would hit the fan big time. We just need to wait, and be patient. The universe rewards those who are patient."

Jazz pouted, slouching down. "Fine, but if he hits you again, I'm not gonna be held responsible for my actions."

Star chuckled. "That's sweet, Jazz, but I think I'll be okay." There was a pop and crackle and she hummed, reaching up to touch her cheek. "There we go. Thank you."

Jazz cocked his helm. "Me? What'd I do?"

She turned to smile fully at him, the scrapes fading away. "You helped me feel better."

"Oh." Jazz smiled back a little. "Then you're welcome."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, and slowly Star relaxed and let her optics offline. It had been a long, trying day for both of them, but Jazz stayed alert, waiting for her to slip into a secure recharge. When she had been completely still for several minutes and her energy signature was the right frequency, he rolled silently to his knees and froze, waiting for any indication that she had woken, and then got to his feet and left, grateful that the elevator was so quiet.

He tried to go back to his quarters and recharge as well, but his processor was running in angry circles, working him up into a rage every time he came back to Starscream. He could list a million reasons why he hated that seeker more than any other creature on the face of Cybertron, or in the whole universe for that matter, and no matter how many times he pulled himself away from that train of thought, he always came back to it.

Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore, and he rolled off his berth and started pacing the room. He would stop for a moment each time at the far wall and reach up as if to touch it before pulling his hand away and striding back to his berth, clenching his jaw and fists in frustration. Then he made the mistake of letting himself think about what had probably happened to Prowl, not to mention the twins, and that Starscream had most likely had a hand in it. A very direct hand.

He stopped in front of the wall and glared at it angrily before slapping his hand on the primary pressure pad and touching the others in the right order. He stepped back as the wall began to move, sliding back and folding out to reveal a small armory, chock full of both normal and not-so-normal weapons, as well as many items of indeterminate use. It was several of the last that Jazz chose, as well as a very sharp blade that he folded into his gauntlet armor. When he had armed himself properly, the wall shifted back into itself and hid the cache while Jazz headed for the door.

"Sorry, Star. I just can't let this go." He muttered, and then slipped out into the dark hall.

~0~

Not a single camera saw him. He knew every blind spot, every detour, and every shortcut. It was the second half of the off cycle and the halls were mostly empty. Nobody saw the assassin creeping through the shadows, silent and nearly invisible. It took him only ten breems to get across the base to his target's quarters, and only half a breem longer to disable the alarms. He started to manually slide the door open on its slicked track, slipping the blade out of his arm again. Someone grabbed him from behind, wrapping an arm around his neck and lifting him off his feet. They pushed the door closed while Jazz struggled wildly, and then drug the smaller mech into the shadows. Energy vibrated through both chassis for a moment, and with a quiet pop they were gone.

Jazz twisted as soon as he registered solid matter beneath his feet again, hooking his foot behind his captor's leg and jerking to take him down. He lashed out with the knife and felt it slice into armor with a satisfying _shick_. The mech did fall, but seemed to recognize this sequence and did some twisting of his own, grabbing Jazz's knife hand and pushing it away as he drug the Autobot with him. The saboteur ended up on the bottom, crushed between the other's chassis and the hard floor. As the arm tightened around his throat, cutting off the energon flow to his processors, error warnings started flashing across his vision. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, he thought with some panic.

The pressure eased off and he gasped for air to cool his systems, shaking his head to clear it.

"I'll have you know Skywarp was half a breem from catching you." Star hissed into his audio.

Jazz froze for a moment, and then started squirming again. Star sat up and let him scramble away. "Slaggit, femme, I was this close to killing him!" he accused.

"No, you were this close to getting killed, Jazz, I told you no!" she snapped back. He realized, now that he wasn't pinned to the floor, that they were in her quarters again.

"You don't know that!" he snarled, storming past her toward the elevator, but she got in the way, blocking him.

"No, I _feel_ it. I want him dead, too, but it is not the time or place to kill any of them."

He dodged around her, but she was faster as always and grabbed his shoulders to spin him around and slam him against the wall, holding him still.

"You will die if you try again!" she yelled, then picked him up and shook him a bit. "Do you understand me Jazz?! You will _die_!" They glared at each other for a moment, neither of them moving. The next instant she was hugging him fiercely. "You're everything I have here, Jazz. I can't lose you too. I won't let you die, I need you to live." She whispered.

That sucked the fire and the anger right out of him and he relaxed with a sigh, dropping his head onto her shoulder. "Alright, fine, you win. Just put me down now."

Star hesitated for a moment, and then gently set the saboteur on his feet. Jazz pouted at the floor and they stood there awkwardly for a moment. He glared up at her reproachfully.

"I thought you _were_ Skywarp for a minute there. When did y'get so heavy?"

The femme smiled wanly, her crimson optics really the only thing visible in the dark room. "I can suspend my mass in subspace or increase my gravitational pull as I see fit. I'm as heavy or light as I want to be."

Jazz snorted. "Figures. Why _wouldn't_ you be able to?" Star shrugged and the saboteur gave a long-suffering sigh, as if to say 'see how unfair life is with you around?' She chuckled a bit. "So, can I go back t'my room? I'm kinda tired." He admitted.

"No, I think you're staying here for the rest of the night." Star said, turning and starting toward the inner berthroom.

"Aw, come on, dontcha trust me?"

"For some reason, no. Besides, you camp out here overnight all the time, it shouldn't be a problem. I'll see you in the morning." She disappeared into her berthroom and Jazz sighed again before trudging over to sit on one of the couches and deposit all his assassin gear on the short table, including the knife. Star's quarters were _the_ safest place on base, possibly in the whole of Cybertron, and the only place he'd ever managed to recharge deeply since It happened, and especially since becoming Ricochet. Living on a base of Decepticons could do that to you.

He rubbed his face tiredly, staring at the blade and still wishing it was coated with Starscream's energon. "One day, Scream." He vowed quietly. "One day I'll see you burn for that. For Prowl, and for everyone and everything else."

Then he laid down, still studying the clean knife, and within a few breems had slipped into recharge.

~0~

Two orns later and several provinces away, Thunderous Prime sat in his temporary quarters at their current temporary base, sifting through datapads listlessly. He'd had no idea how exhausting it was to be a rebel. He would probably never see this room again since tomorrow they would be moving to a new location, trying to keep the Decepticons off their tail. Nothing was solid here, the places and faces and names always changing, everything dangerous, nothing safe. They never stopped running, unless they were fighting. And they always ended up running from that, too.

They had been underground now for… he sighed when the number was not forthcoming. Way too long, he decided. Not even the Matrix could completely numb his programmed _need_ for open sky and supersonic speeds. He was almost tempted to go out and _start_ something just to get a taste of fresh air, but that would be foolish. And dangerous, he could almost hear Red Alert complain.

The Prime sighed again, and sent a reproachful thought at the Matrix and those residing within it. _Why did you pick me again?_ He wondered, but his tone was tired, lacking any real resentment. He'd given up being resentful a long time ago. The Matrix didn't answer, because he already knew what they would say. They'd told him about three times already.

 _Because you were ready and willing. Because they need you._

He idly started to read a report on one of the datapads, another supplies strike that actually went well, for once. The next two, not so much. It was depressing and frustrating, and coupled with his pent up seeker base programming he was understandably a little irritable when there was a brisk knock at his door.

"What?" he wondered, trying not to sound as upset as he felt. The door opened to admit Red Alert, thankfully with only one datapad in hand. He rethought that before the mech had even opened his mouth, though. One datapad usually meant trouble or disaster, and the security director's expression only confirmed that deduction. Joy.

He held up The Pad, one of the super heavily encrypted pads that only a handful of mecha in the whole of Cybertron could unlock, one of the pads that went back and forth from the Heights, and said, "We need to talk."

Dread gripped the Prime, and he somehow knew where this was going before Red Alert sealed the deal.

"It's about Starscream."


	7. Spilled Energon

The Lord of the Decepticons watched with narrow optics as the femme and her second sparred in the training field. They were good, he had to give them that. The mech was short and quick, but the femme was quicker still and, while not as strong, she was intelligent and knew how and when to strike. She expertly turned the mech's own momentum and energy on himself, sliding past his swing and grabbing his wrist to pull him off balance. She gave him a firm shove that sent him to the ground, though he rolled away and to his feet before she could take advantage of his vulnerability. They grinned and bantered as they fought. It was a fun thing for them, a way to pass the time and show off.

Starscream didn't like it. He'd been watching them closely ever since he'd arrived several cycles earlier, and what he saw did not please him. They were too close. They spent too much time alone where nobody could see or hear—even himself, despite his best efforts to plant her quarters. He'd started asking around and the theories were… colorful, to say the least. But that's all they were. Theories. Nobody had any real answers, and right now answers were what Starscream wanted. He could not afford to have any sort of faction within his upper ranks, especially not in a province like the Tagan Heights. This closeness was dangerous, _they_ were dangerous. He was quickly beginning to think he might have to intervene before the two of them decided they could make something of their skills. He had pulled similar interventions before, most notably to his own trine mates, before… well, before Thundercracker turned traitor and took his Matrix.

Starscream's thoughts and expression turned sour at that, and he scowled out at Verasuvius and Ricochet. Yes, this little clique they had here was not good. But until he could discover the exact nature of their exclusive club, he wasn't sure exactly how drastic his action against it should be. It would be a bother to have to destroy either, since they were very effective and reasonable leaders of one of the most important provinces on the planet. He did understand that, despite his critical attitude toward the femme. That was why he was so concerned about this.

Their mock battle raged on, oblivious to his suspicion. But then it hit the seeker, exactly where he could find some of the answers he wanted, and a sly smirk came to his face before he turned away, leaving them to it.

He headed straight for the med-bay.

~0~

His name was Cheapshot, their CMO. He had a moderately sized bay set strategically close to the manufacturing plants, but still close enough to the main complex to serve both, and he was well stocked and fairly well staffed, Starscream had discovered. He had already been around to the bay on the grand tour of the base his second day here, but had had little interest in meeting the CMO at the time. Now, as he stepped through the doors and looked around, he was satisfied to find only one mech in the room, that being Cheapshot himself, sitting in the back corner at his desk with his pedes up, lazily playing some game on his large computer.

Cheapshot gestured at him vaguely, not looking up. "Take a seat, I'll be there in a moment."

The seeker's optics narrowed at the affront to his position, ignorant though it was, and he raised his arm to take aim.

Cheapshot jerked and dove aside as the beam of energy arced past his head to hit the computer, shutting it down with an alarmed blip.

"What the _frag_ —" the orange and green mech snarled, scrambling up with a large medical saw in place of his arm, and then he froze. Horror swept across his face and he straightened, transforming the saw back into his arm and standing at attention. "Lord Starscream, forgive me, I was not aware that…"

"Oh, quit your groveling. If I was going to kill you, you'd be dead." The seeker snapped, crossing his arms and trying to look bigger. It was working, at least on the stockier mech. "As it is, killing you, though it is well within my rights, would be counter-productive, since I have questions that you need to answer."

"I… what kind of questions, my Lord?" Cheapshot wondered nervously, eying the volatile Decepticon leader.

"Questions concerning Verasuvius and Ricochet." Starscream said.

"Really? Well then, by all means Lord Starscream, ask away." The CMO urged, seeming a bit relieved.

Starscream noticed and filed the reaction away for future investigation, but stayed on topic. He wandered over to a medical device and inspected it. He didn't really know what it was for, but his interest seemed to be having the desired effect of making Cheapshot fidget even more. "Yes. They're close, aren't they?"

"Yeah, I think anybody on base would agree with that, sir."

"And how often are they in for medical treatment?" the seeker asked, opening a few cupboards to find various supplies and a few tucked away test tubes full of some sort of liquid. Experiments, it looked like. He would have to ask about that, when he was done.

"Well, not all that often, and never for anything very serious. Ricochet's been in for damage before, after raids in the Canyon, but Verasuvius only comes in very rarely."

"Still, you've had the opportunity to run full medical diagnostics on both of them on more than one occasion, correct?"

"Absolutely, sir."

Starscream turned to regard him closely. "So the rumors. Is there any truth to them?"

Cheapshot blinked, and then smirked. "You're the first mecha who's ever really asked me that, you know. You'd think it would occur to more people around here that I would know."

"Are they?" Starscream glared a bit, reminding the mech of his place, and Cheapshot sobered.

"Ah, no, sir. They're not. At all."

"Hmm." He hummed in thought, optics narrowing further. "Now isn't that curious." He murmured to himself.

Cheapshot stood by for several moments, shifting as the seeker remained unmoved, lost in his musings. Then he abruptly turned back to a cupboard.

"What exactly is this, in here?" he asked, and Cheapshot jumped forward to begin explaining.

~0~

Raids were scheduled every other on-cycle and the search patterns shifted every week. It was a fairly complex strategy Verasuvius had drawn up to catch Autobots and their raiding parties, and it would have been rather effective if she didn't hand the plans over to Streetwise every time she changed them so he could plan around them. They had an agreement going; about every other Decacycle or so he would schedule a group to run into one of her raiding parties, assuming they didn't find a new group on their own. He ran the scouts close to their search areas on a regular basis, so the Decepticons would know they'd been nearby, but they often missed the Autobots and it didn't come to violence. There were a few occasions, every so often, where something did go wrong, but that just meant Streetwise would withdraw a bit, keeping everybody closer and out of harm's way. It was all just an intricate dance to keep suspicion down and the 'Cons happy. It worked very well, most of the time.

This time was different.

"Well, well, well, look what the photovoltaic cat dragged in."

There were some sneers and rumbling chuckles around the courtyard as Starscream stepped out of the dark entranceway to appraise the line of pathetic rebels, smirking cruelly at every one of them. Several ducked or flinched, dread settling in their tanks. Verasuvius was safe; at least they knew most of them would end up down the Hole, and the one or two kept back would show up the next day physically repaired, if a little shaken and unwilling to talk about what had happened. Starscream preferred to have his prisoners killed in front of him. No safety net to catch them when the firing squad took out their laser cores, that was for sure.

He started off the same as he usually did, strutting and preening and mocking the Autobots at his mercy, and they kept their heads down and their vocalizers muted, knowing this wasn't going to end the way all the other captures had. Verasuvius watched the display with a twisting smile and dark amusement in her crimson optics. Ricochet had limped down to the med-bay as soon as they arrived, and the femme couldn't help but think that was a good thing. Even _she_ wasn't sure if this was going to end well.

She was going to try and make it work, though.

Starscream's browbeating was winding down and he surveyed the pathetic scrap-heaps once more, optics narrowed. "Now, I have an offer for you. The traitor that calls himself Thunderous Prime and leads you." He snarled the name, and then worked to calm himself a bit. "I want to know his location. The first of you who provides an answer gets to live."

Vera watched the mechs intently. They all glanced at each other surreptitiously, as if waiting for someone to speak up, trying to decide what to do. There was an almost palpable undercurrent of 'yeah, right' to some of the glances, and nobody said anything.

Starscream growled. "Very well." He pointed to one of the Autobots. "Bring him here." He ordered. A guard hauled the poor mech up and half dragged him to the seeker, grinning nastily as he shoved the 'Bot at Starscream's feet. Smirking again, Starscream took aim directly at the mech's head. "Anything to say, Autobot?" he sneered.

Verasuvius stepped up before anything more could happen. "If I may make a suggestion, my Lord."

He scowled over his shoulder at her, aim unwavering. The unfortunate Autobot threw an almost hopeful glance up at her. "What?" the larger seeker snapped. The femme gave both mechs a rather vindictive smile.

"It's been a longstanding tradition of the Tagan Heights to dispose of our prisoners by throwing them into the Hole at the end of the Canyon. I find it quite amusing to watch the ground-pounders fall flailing into its depths, and very few things loosen the glossa like the threat of endless falling." She turned her sharp gaze on the Autobot. "At least, for a groundling."

"Afraid to get your hands dirty, femme?" Starscream sneered.

Verasuvius smirked. "No more than you are, my Lord. I merely find it lasts longer than a shot to the head."

The mech eyed her, and then took a step back. "Very well, you deal with this one my way, and I'll deal with the rest your way. Tradition must be kept after all." His grin was almost predatory as Verasuvius twitched her wings agreeably. She slid a dangerous look down on the Autobot, moving forward into the spot Starscream had vacated.

"Your Lord asked you a question, Autobot." She fairly purred, reaching out to wrap her hand around the back of his neck. The Autobot leaned away from her touch nervously, blue optic band flickering. He was larger than most of the others, built heavily with defense in mind. Traces of paint indicated that he might have been black at one point, but now it was hard to tell.

Star knew who he was, though.

"He's not my Lord." The mech stated quietly.

Vera chuckled a bit. "No? You're on his planet. That makes him your Lord."

He twitched away from her again, but her grip tightened. "It's not his planet, either." He added, a stolid defiance in his tone.

"Hmm, pity you think that. Anything to say before you die, Autobot?" she repeated the question.

Trailbreaker was firmly silent.

"If you insist."

The strike was so fast that there was a stunned silence in the courtyard for a moment. Trailbreaker's optic band flickered again as Verasuvius stepped back, inspecting the pink and blue liquid dripping from her claws, and then he gurgled and slowly collapsed, energon pooling on the ground beneath him.

"Cleaning up is always a problem, isn't it?" the femme noted nonchalantly. She turned her attention to the other Autobots. "Now, for the rest of them." She nodded deferentially to Starscream and he gestured to the guards. They started hauling the prisoners to their pedes and herding them toward the transport waiting for them.

Verasuvius turned to Starscream as he watched with a satisfied smirk. "Meet you at the Hole?" she said with a slight bow. The seeker uncrossed his arms and moved off without replying. Vera turned to address Ricochet, who had just rejoined the party. "Bring the body. We can drop it down the Hole with the others."

She walked away, noticing as she did the last Autobot in line look sorrowfully back at his friend as the mech continued to bleed his life away.

 _Hound,_ she thought, though she carried on to take off after Starscream as if she hadn't seen and didn't care either way.

 _Forgive me._

~0~

The slice was deep, but clean. Still, the mech was going to bleed out before self-repair could do anything about it—before anybody could do anything about it. Jazz pretended he didn't care as the energon pooled around his pedes, leaning casually against the side of the transport with an easy smirk on his face as he chatted with one of the guards. Harming members of his own faction while undercover wasn't a new concept to the saboteur, after all. It was something long-term infiltrators had to come to grips with and be ready to do, in the event that there was no other way to maintain their cover. He was good at keeping face.

There wasn't anything he could do for the mech. There was only one thing that could save him now.

So as soon as the transport hovered to a stop about a quarter of the way across the Hole, he placed his foot on the chassis, noting the extremities that were already starting to grey, and shoved him off with a quick prayer that First Aid was standing ready and would be able to save him.

Ricochet leaned over to watch the body fall, making a whistling noise as it did. "The way the slagger was leakin' all over, we're gonna have to put the whole transport through a detox wash when we get back." He quipped to the guard he'd been talking to. The 'Con laughed harshly.

"And Commander Verasuvius will have our helms if we don't!" he agreed boisterously. So close to the Hole, the only reason they could hear each other at all was because of the sonic buffers installed in the transport, creating a shield of relative quiet around them.

Neither mech noticed as the nearest prisoner lifted his head, face twisted with hate. It wasn't a typical expression for the Autobot to have, but that just made it all the more ferocious when he threw himself at Ricochet. He was too angry to yell or say something. He just plowed into the other mech as he leaned over the wide opening, and they both went tumbling off the transport.

The rest of the Autobots looked at each other, blinking with 'why didn't we think of that earlier?' expressions, and almost as one rushed the remaining guards. Half of them made it off, dragging three Decepticons with them. The others were restrained.

Meanwhile, Jazz twisted in mid-air to grab Hound and pull him closer so he would hear what he said. The noise of the Hole was almost deafening now that the sound dampener was gone.

"Hound!" he yelled, and the mech, though still glaring hatefully, did pay attention. "Tell him we're sorry!"

Then he pushed away and turned again, arm shifting. A grapple shot out to latch onto a dark blur as it streaked past, pulling him with it almost straight up. The guards and Autobots fell past them and Jazz waved at the falling 'Cons, relishing the looks on their faces as they went to their deaths. The net would catch them, same as it caught the others, but there would only be more Autobots waiting for them at the bottom. And Jazz could honestly say he didn't feel even a teeny bit bad for them.

Vera changed directions abruptly and he began to swing up, moving his weight with the motion and knowing exactly when she was going to release. Like a cat, he twisted in the air and landed gracefully on the transport in a crouch before rising with a grin.

"That was exciting." He said.

"Hmm, don't expect me to save you every time you're slow enough to let an Autobot get you." Verasuvius warned as she landed, shoving the shorter mech to the side just hard enough to make him stumble.

"How was I to know the glitch was gonna go all suicide-assassin on me?" he complained, and then fell silent as he took his post on the end of the transport, in the puddle of fluids left by Trailbreaker.

"Well then. Now that that's all sorted out." Vera said. "Shall we begin?"

She grabbed one of the mechs by the throat and swung around to lean him out over the Hole. He jumped and resisted out of instinctual fear of falling. He understood, though he had never been captured before, that something would stop him from splattering at the bottom. That didn't mean he was comfortable with the idea.

"Where is Thunderous?" she demanded.

~0~

Nobody would tell them anything, not that it surprised Vera and Ricochet. Why would they say something when it was a completely empty death threat?

Of course the point was to appease the other Decepticons, not get information, and at least Skywarp was heartily entertained to watch the Autobots fall, Starscream less so but still enough to be satisfied, despite the lack of results. Mission accomplished.

In spite of their success, the rest of the day was tense for the both of them. The instant Starscream was occupied with something that would hold his attention for long enough, Star was gone. Most of the cycle was already past. It had been over 13 joors since they had dropped the mortally wounded Trailbreaker, but there was still a chance she could help.

First Aid was cleaning his tools when she emerged out of the back wall of the med-bay. He looked tired. More than tired.

He looked weary. The kind of weary Ratchet was.

He looked up with a dull optic band and Star's vents caught. She didn't have to ask. First Aid didn't have to answer. He simply lowered his helm, visor flickering off for a moment, and then went back to his work.

Star sagged back against the wall, disbelief and hurt confusion on her face. "But…I calculated, I… left a whole 15% margin of error, I… I…"

First Aid shook his helm. "He got caught in the crossfire while the reception team was taking out the 'Cons. Stray shot. I tried but…" his already soft voice faded to the quietest whisper. "It wasn't good enough."

"This is _not_ your fault, Aid!" He flinched at her shout and she struggled to lower her voice a bit. "This is _my_ fault. _I_ should have been more careful, _I_ should have found another way, _I_ should have known…" she wavered, falling back against the wall again. "I should have told Streetwise to keep them away. This is my fault. Primus." She buried her face in her hands. "Hound saw the whole thing. Primus."

First Aid blew out a soft vent, and continued to clean.

Eventually, the femme straightened and composed herself before walking past the Protectobot to the operating room where the greyed chassis was laying, waiting to be recycled. Hound was sitting against the wall, head down, listlessly fingering the scraped and faded red insignia that had adorned his best friend's chest plate. Star paused, fists clenching for a moment before she moved to kneel beside the mech and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I am so sorry, Hound." She murmured.

The once-green scout paused, trying to keep his hands from shaking, and didn't look up or reply.

"If there's anything you need, let us know." She squeezed his shoulder gently and then rose, looking once more at Trailbreaker before walking back out.

~0~

When Jazz made it up a couple joors later she was sitting at the little table closest to the Hole, energon dispenser up and several empty cubes beside her. Her face was buried in her hands and she didn't acknowledge the mech as he walked closer, his spark sinking with every step.

He halted beside her and reached out to run his hand up and down the back edge of one of her wings, a gesture she'd told him was actually really relaxing; the seeker equivalent of a back rub. "He didn' make it, did he?" Jazz asked quietly.

"No. He didn't." she whispered, her voice rough with emotion. She slowly sat up, pulling her hands down her face tiredly and letting out a deep vent. Her optics were an acid green again.

"There wasn't anythin' more you coulda done, Star," he tried to comfort her.

She snorted violently. "Don't try to tell me that, Jazz." She bit back. "It's nothing more than a lie."

She turned her back to him and he closed his mouth. There would be no reasoning with the femme while she was in this mood, so he sat down in the other seat and grabbed himself a cube of high grade to wait.

They sat in depressed silence for a while as the femme stared bitterly out the window at the Hole.

"How's Hound?" Jazz asked after a few breems.

Star deflated even more, wings wilting. "He wouldn't even talk to me." She shook her helm. "He's the first one we've ever lost, Jazz. The first to be captured and killed. And I… I was the one who killed him." She looked over at her friend, perhaps the only mecha who could understand what she was trying to say, with horror on her face. "Not Starscream. Me. Just me."

Jazz's face was set grimly, and he took his pedes off the table to lean forward, setting his energon down. "I'm not saying I don't feel ya, Star, 'cause you know I do. But we both know that our cover is more important than any one Autobot. 'Cept probably Prime. You say it's a lie, but it's not. There wasn't anythin' you could've done that woulda kept our cover better'n what you did. Trail woulda agreed to take that hit if we'd told him beforehand."

Star offlined her optics and slowly lowered her helm into her hands again. "Maybe." She muttered. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he would have." She peeked out at the mech after a moment, and she looked tired. "But is Hound gonna believe that when the day comes that I have to explain to him why I killed his best friend?"

Jazz held her gaze for a moment. "I don't know. I guess you'll jus' hafta find out."

She blew out a vent, offlining her optics again, and Jazz leaned across the table to touch her shoulder. "But I'll be there with ya. We'll find out together. Promise."

Star didn't respond.

~0~

That off-cycle they were both downstairs in the community, standing respectfully with every 'Bot in the base that wasn't on duty and couldn't get the scant few minutes off that it would take to be here. Hot Spot was up front on a raised platform with a small case that represented the deceased, and Hound was beside him. The base commander's eulogy was short and simple, and then he stepped back and let Hound take the stage.

The mech stood for a moment, staring out at the small crowd of mecha, still clutching that scuffed and mistreated insignia, and then he took a deep vent.

"Trail and I teamed up right after… well, right after It happened. When we got separated from our unit after a battle, he… he saved my life. For all these vorns, we watched each other's backs, and if we hadn't had each other we would have both been dead a long time ago. I don't know what I'm going to do without him." He turned to the little coffin and set the insignia on it. His next words were quiet, but everybody still heard them. "I'll miss you, buddy."

Hound stepped back and Hot Spot nodded for the salute to start. Jazz looked over in time to see Star already slipping out of the crowd toward the elevator, and he let her go. He could handle what needed to be done here, and when she was done throwing things he would come back up and make sure she didn't do something really stupid, like get them caught.

Unless the really stupid thing was to kill Starscream. Then he was all for it.


	8. Timing

It still didn't make any sense, and that aggravated him to no end.

Starscream glared at the Tagan Heights Province Commander as she sat on the edge of one of the outer walls of the complex with her second, staring out at the teams of workers mining for raw materials. Her body language was almost impossible to read at this distance, with her wings locked into position as they seemed to be, and that only added a level of irritation to the problem facing the Lord of the Decepticons. He could discern no reason for the seeker femme to have such a relationship with the groundling. No explanation he could think of had matched all the evidence he had gathered.

He was beginning to seriously suspect that there was something deceptive happening here.

His irritation urged him to simply destroy them both, but that would leave him with the problem of finding a new base commander that would be as good at the job as Verasuvius was. Ugh. No, that would be far too much trouble, but it was obvious that he couldn't leave them be. He considered calling Soundwave away from his hunting in Protihex, but the telepath was hot on the trail of the Prime and he hated to interrupt that. That only left one thing to do, he suddenly realized, one more thing he could use to either smoke them out as traitors or separate them to prevent their treachery from growing to endanger him.

With a sly grin, the Decepticon Lord slunk further into the shadow he was spying from and hurried off to give some orders.

~0~

Jazz slammed his hands on the table. "TRANSFER?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M BEING TRANSFERRED?"

Star tossed the pad over to him, face set grimly. "Says right there, take a look. Polyhex."

The mech snatched the pad up off the table and scowled at it, running down the document and picking out his name easily, at the very top of the list of soldiers to be transferred to the front lines.

"That can't be right." He snapped. "You gotta go talk to him, tell him he's got it wrong. He can't just transfer me, I'm fragging second in command!"

"And he is Starscream. He can do whatever he wants." Star sighed, wings drooping a bit. "We should have seen this coming." She muttered, rubbing her forehead.

"How were we supposed to know he was gonna do something as stupid as try to get rid of—he doesn't know, does he?"

The abrupt hairpin turn in the sentence didn't faze the femme and she only sighed. "No. He'd be attacking far more directly and with some amount of panic if he knew. There would be a cocky confrontation with half the army and they would try to capture us by force. We would not be having this conversation."

"Then what's the deal? What's his game? Why in the name of Cybertron would he want to get rid of me?" the red and black mech demanded.

"You remember how it was when Starscream took command?" she asked without looking up.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Jazz threw his hands in the air as he paced, waving the datapad around with the almost irrepressible urge to throw it at the floor and stomp on it.

"When he took command, you remember? He needed a new air commander. Who got the job?"

Jazz let out a hot, whistling vent, refreshing his visor and telling himself to go along with it, he had no other option. "Thundercracker."

"Who _should_ have gotten the job?"

That pulled Jazz from his frustrated pacing to stare in confusion at the dark femme. "Wha'd'you mean?"

"Probably the seeker who wanted the job, who would be good at it and follow orders, right? Not the one who had expressed less than a firm belief in the Decepticon cause. Wouldn't you say?"

Jazz frowned at her. "I guess, but what's this got to do with us?"

Star looked directly at him, red optics dimming grimly. "That seeker's name was Skywarp. That should have been _his_ position. But Starscream gave it to Thundercracker. Why?"

Jazz stopped, stood, thought about it though some part of him still wanted to throw the pad against the wall and rage hatefully against the Decepticons and this blasted, unending mission, and most of all Starscream, the creature he hated above all others in the whole Primus-forsaken universe. "I dunno…" he finally answered. "Because he could?"

She leaned forward, one finger tapping the table to accent her words. "Because it divided them. They were too close for comfort, close enough to pose a threat to Starscream, Skywarp in particular. So he pitted them against each other, and effectively destroyed any hope of collaboration between them to either leave or overthrow him."

 _And ironically sealed his fate in the process._ The soft thought entered her mind like the quietest whisper in her audio. She resisted the urge to glance out at the bellowing Hole, keeping her optics locked with the mech's as understanding dawned in them.

 _Funny how these things work out._ She thought back.

Jazz was scowling by now and Star leaned back into her seat, point made. He paced again. "What does he expect us t'do? Who would follow us, if we did try to take over? 'S not like we got a Matrix to wave around and claim command with."

The seeker shrugged. "He's paranoid. What do you expect?"

Finally, the mech threw himself into his seat, tossing the pad back to her and folding his arms on the table. "Fine. So wha'd'we do about it?"

"The transfer is set for five cycles. The attack is scheduled for eight. I… Jazz, without drawing undue attention at this critical time period, I don't know how well I can stall. If you could slip away and hide in the community until—"

"No."

There was absolutely no sign of the frustration and agitation Jazz had been displaying mere seconds ago, only a firm, unyielding determination. Star closed her mouth.

"I am gonna be here to watch the expression on that fragger's face as we tear his empire apart. Don't try and tell me I won't."

Star thought for a moment, her wings pensively angling further back to be more streamlined, less of a target. She tilted her helm, optics soft. "Jazz, I understand—you know I do—but I'm just not sure we can pull that off. Not with how delicate the situation is."

Jazz was unmoved, unwavering. "I am going to be here." He enunciated clearly.

They stared at each other without flinching for a long time.

Any action she took as Verasuvius to delay the transfer would be an unacceptable risk of attention. Starscream would hear no excuse, and any 'accident' would sharpen the Decepticon Lord's suspicions. If he dug any deeper, they risked losing their cover, and every moment of time they stayed locked up tight in their roles as Decepticons was another moment of victory for the Autobots, another moment of delay in Starscream's reaction time. The only other option was to move the attack forward, but they didn't have time to coordinate with their slow, cumbersome communication via datapad.

But then again, nobody said that was how they had to do it. This did sort of constitute an emergency.

Star leaned forward a bit and Jazz matched the movement, refusing to back down. "Promise to behave. Promise to keep it together and hold down the fort while I'm gone and I will make this happen for you." She said quietly.

Jazz's optic band flickered with an unnamed emotion. "Deal."

She nodded and stood. "Then I'll be going for a flight. Good luck."

"Tell Thunderous I said hi." The saboteur replied, and then a smile split his face apart. "An' I think I'll owe ya for a long time after this."

"I think you just might."

The next moment she was out the window and blasting away from the tower. Jazz relaxed a bit, still smiling, and watched the light of her thrusters until she was out of sight before finally moving to leave.

~0~

The femme landed in Tarn, quickly shifting into a ground-based alt-mode, and drove the last short distance to where she knew the Prime and his 'Bots were stationed at the moment. She ran into the first sentries shortly after she moved underground. The only indication that she had been spotted, of course, was the tingle of their targeting locks, a sensation too faint for most mecha to even notice. She paused and transformed a moment before one of the sentries stepped out of his cover.

"State your designation, rank, and purpose." He ordered.

Star met the mech's pale blue optics. He'd been grey and red once. Now the only thing left of his paint job was the red chevron on his helm, and the only thing left of his talkative, vibrant personality was the apparent youth in his face. The light in his optics was anything but innocent and friendly, these cycles. The femme's tires spun on her back in grief for a moment as she came face to face with the young gunner for the first time since news of Prowl's fate had come to them.

"Bluestreak." She said softly. "It's just me, Star Nova. I need to speak to Thunderous immediately. It's something of an emergency."

Bluestreak straightened from his stance, studying her before relaxing even more. "Oh. It's been a long time, Star. Good to see you. Thunderous Prime is this way."

He gestured her past him and she obediently trotted down the dark tunnel, pausing only a moment on her way by to put a hand on the young mech's shoulder before moving on. Bluestreak didn't meet her gaze, optics constantly searching for the ever-present danger he lived with, and he promptly disappeared back into his bolt-hole once she was past.

She passed three more sets of guards before making it to the temporary base proper. She didn't need anybody to tell her where the Prime was—the Matrix's energy was easily traceable from across the planet—but she had acquired an escort of Red Alert, Ratchet, and several others from the community by the time she found him. The mech was in a conference with several of his officers in an impromptu meeting room when they interrupted.

"Thunderous Prime." The Nova greeted as the mechs in the room looked up. She smiled as she set optic on the Prime for the first time since he had become such. "I hope you're not in the middle of a crisis, because I sort of am."

"Thank you, Cliffjumper, we'll have to finish this later." Thunderous dismissed his officers with a nod and most mechs evacuated the room, leaving Star, Prime, Ratchet, and Red Alert alone.

Thunderous gave a tight smile back, looking tired as he gestured for the three others to take a seat. "I would think it would be something more than 'sort of' a crisis to warrant your first personal appearance." He pointed out as they settled around the makeshift table.

The femme cocked her helm and frowned, giving him a shrewd look. "What happened?" she asked flatly. The Prime sighed deeply, cycling an impressive amount of air through his intakes.

"A scouting party had a run in with…" he hesitated. Star cocked an optic ridge. "With the femmes." He finished, almost in a mutter. "Reports suggest that Elita-One was leading them."

Their optics met and for an instant they shared a pain that wasn't their own. Star nodded. "I've heard more than a few rumors on our end. I assume it did not go well."

The Prime sighed again. "Not very. It's unclear who shot first, but only three of our mechs made it back. The femmes appear to be completely rogue, and very dangerous." Thunderous gave her a hopeful look. "Any suggestions for dealing with them?"

Star looked down, offlining her optics for a moment. Her wheels slowly spun on her back. "Stay out of their way." She finally advised softly. "Elita's quarrel is with Starscream and the Decepticons, but if you draw attention to yourself she won't be likely to treat you or your mechs much differently than them." She looked up sharply to pin the new Prime with an intense stare. "She was bonded to Optimus, you know that. Her survival past his deactivation is… unusual. She won't be entirely rational anymore, and it's quite possible that she resents you."

Thunderous Prime smiled wryly. "Well, that's nothing new. So long as they don't start _hunting_ us, we should be alright."

He blinked when the femme's intense stare didn't let up.

"Perhaps… I can change that." She murmured after several uncomfortable moments.

Thunderous cleared his vents. "So, what is your crisis, Nova?"

Star jerked, snapping out of whatever thought process she had fallen into. "Right. As you know…" she hesitated a moment, optics darting around and scanners sweeping the room before returning her attention to the Prime. "Starscream and Skywarp are currently taking some sort of holiday in the Tagan Heights province. I do not believe Jazz's and my positions are compromised." She shook her helm. "However, Starscream has seen reason enough to stage an intervention of sorts. He's transferring Jazz to the front lines in Polyhex."

"He'll get killed out there!" Ratchet objected.

Star shook her helm again. "Not before I would retrieve him, but that's not the point. He's decided to dig in his heels and be stubborn about it. He _insists_ on being in position for the attack as we planned for him to be, and I promised to make that happen."

Thunderous nodded, although a bit warily. "What will that require us to do?"

Star sucked in a vent. "We have to move the attack forward three cycles."

The Prime blinked. Audibly.

"That is _absolutely_ impossible!" Red Alert almost leaped from his seat in outrage. "It can't be done!"

"It can and it will have to." Star countered without taking her gaze from Thunderous'. "I won't let Jazz down. He's never let me down."

After a moment of thought and forestalling any more complaints from Red with a raised hand, Thunderous slowly nodded. "I think, with you here, we can probably pull that off. Just give me a moment to gather my officers."

Star nodded and smiled in relief. She pulled a datapad from subspace and finished preparing her notes. This was going to be challenging, to put it mildly.

~0~

Four joors later the femme was on her way out of the base. She hesitated, glancing the way she had come, and then down a deeper, darker tunnel off to her right. After a moment's thought, she turned right with determination in her steps. She had a femme commander that she needed to talk to.

~0~

Almost five and a half joors later Jazz looked up from the pad he was reading, peering out the window intently for a moment before dropping the pad and rising to his pedes. The pinpoint of light he had spotted quickly moved closer, eventually becoming discernable as seeker thrusters. The mech shifted, partially in relief and partially in continued agitation for his commander's well-being. The instant the femme transformed to land in the tower room and stumbled, bending over a bit, he knew something was wrong.

"Star! What happened, y'need a medic?" he demanded, helping her to a seat on the couch and retrieving a cube of energon for her. She took it gratefully, keeping a hand firmly to her side.

"No, I should be fine. I just ran into a little bit of trouble."

Jazz frowned as Star took a few gulps, pulling his first aid kit from subspace and insistently tugging her hand away from the wound. He shot her an accusing look when he found a jagged, carbon-scored rend in her black plates. The wound was leaking, lightly but steadily, and he quickly got to work patching her up and cleaning the fluids that had smeared over her plating.

"Trouble with who?" he asked as he worked.

The femme sighed. "Trouble… with Elita and her femmes."

Jazz's visor brightened as he jerked to look at the seeker. Star met his shocked stare and nodded grimly. "It's true. Elita-One still lives and commands the femmes."

Jazz blinked a couple times. "Well, that _does_ explain where they all got off to for all this time. But… Elita? How… How is she?" he wondered cautiously, pain flitting across his expression.

Star's wings drooped. "Well, better than she obviously _could_ be… but not as good as I had hoped. I told her about the attack, and invited her to join us. She didn't have a problem with that, but then when I started talking about meeting with Thunderous… well, that's when things went downhill. The good news is, we've worked everything out with Prime's forces, for the most part, and we should be ready to go in five orns."

She smiled wanly at her second and Jazz grinned back. "You're th'best, Star!"

She hummed, taking another gulp of energon. "Don't thank me until it works. How were things here?"

Jazz revved his engine in agitation. "You would not believe th'time I've had keepin' that slagging seeker off my back about you disappearin'. Don't be surprised if you get a full interrogation tomorrow. Fragging glitch." He muttered.

"Great, just what I need; some quality time with Screamer." Star muttered, engines vibrating and clicking unhappily.

Jazz hummed in sympathy. "Don' worry, I'll scrounge up somethin' t'get ya away from th'fragger."

The femme's smile was a little more sincere this time. "Thanks, Jazz. I can always count on you."

"Sure can!" the saboteur beamed, and she laughed.

"Alright, mech, if your trip over the moons finishes sometime in the next few joors, I would suggest getting some rest. We're both gonna need it if we're going to keep this up until the attack."

Jazz was instantly serious. "Right, no room for screw-ups in the home stretch. Recharge well, Star." He said as she got to her pedes and started for her door.

She paused halfway through the frame. "Oh yeah, someone's got to tell Streetwise the new plan. Here's the pad, you wanna do it for me?"

"Yup." The mech bounced off the couch, catching the pad as she tossed it to him and starting to grin again as he followed her.

"Just try not to wake me up on your way back in, okay?" she admonished with a smirk while he typed in the passcode and she settled on her berth.

"Wouldn' dream of it, femme." He chuckled, and then the elevator started to drop and Star initiated her recharge sequence.

~0~

The next on-cycle the femme was ambushed shortly after appearing in the command center, as expected.

"My Lord." Verasuvius murmured respectfully as the larger seeker stepped into the room like he owned it. Which, he did. But not for long, if things worked out the way she planned them to.

Starscream eyed her suspiciously as she gave a slight bow. He slowly continued closer, studying her intently, and then finally looked away to inspect the main monitor she had been reading reports on. Vera held her bow until he turned his attention from her, and then took a small step back, yielding control to the Decepticon Lord.

"Yes, and where have you been for the last cycle, femme? Rather unprofessional, to abandon your base for so long." The inquiry started casual, but ended on a scathing note.

"My apologies, Lord Starscream. I felt the urge for a flight. I assure you, Ricochet would have been well equipped to handle any situation that arose, and I was never more than a comm away. I would have extended an invitation for you and your seekers to join me, but, well, a femme needs her alone time."

Starscream gave a non-committal hum and cast his gaze over her again. He couldn't detect a lie in her, and he had become quite adept at reading mecha over the vorns. With his own base coding having him make plans to go on his own excursion later in the cycle, he supposed he couldn't begrudge his fellow seeker her absence to sate her need for open sky. He turned away again.

"Very well. I suppose I can excuse you this once, but don't think I will be so forgiving the next time you disappear without a word to your Lord."

"Of course not. I am most grateful for your mercy, Lord Starscream." The femme murmured, bowing again.

A moment of silence passed as they both read the R&D report on the screen, and then Vera cocked her helm.

"I saw the transfer list you wrote up yesterday, my Lord." She started softly.

Starscream's engines clicked and his wings twitched dismissively. "What of it?"

"I only mention it to express approval of Ricochet's transfer. He has been a valuable second in command. The front lines will benefit from his skills, I'm sure."

Her only answer was another non-committal grunt and dismissive wing flick and she left it alone.

/ _Need back-up yet?_ / Jazz commed only a breem later.

/ _Nope. He's already let me drop it. Doesn't seem very interested in anything I have to say today._ /

/ _Better than th'alternative. Right then. Guess I'll get back t'work._ /

/ _You do that, Ricochet. And don't let me catch you slacking off again._ /

The mech's laughter filtered over the comm frequency as he signed off, and Star was happy to hear it.

~0~

The next four orns leading up to the attack passed almost casually as the last preparations were made with Thunderous' troops, in the Community, and in the Tagan Heights province itself. Anticipation hung thick in the air between the base commander and her second, only growing as the attack drew nearer and Starscream showed no sign of heading out.

And then finally, the orn came.


	9. Attack

There is a song involved in this one! Cues are in the mix, the song is the Iron Man three trailer music 2 : )

* * *

"So how long y'think you'll survive without me?"

Verasuvius laughed at the shorter mech, striding along the corridor so fast he had to jog every other step to keep up. "Oh, I think we'll be just fine without you, Ricochet. It's how long you last out there on the front lines that I'm interested in seeing."

"Y'sayin' I've gone soft, femme?"

"Well, I'm not saying it's been hard on you, back here in manufacturing." Vera smirked, giving her second a playful shove. He caught himself and glared back.

"I see how it is. Y'just can't wait t'get rid of me, can ya?"

The seeker laughed again as they stepped out into the courtyard where the shipping docks were. The transfer shuttle was waiting on an open-air launch pad. Everybody else was already there and starting to board, with Starscream and Skywarp— the latter looking very put out—watching from the sidelines. Both base commanders sent respectful nods at the Decepticon leader before Ricochet turned to survey the landscape that they could see from the raised platform.

"Can't say I'm gonna miss the lack of action 'round here." He said frankly.

"Hm, well, scrap a few for me out there, why don't you?"

Ricochet looked back at his commander with a lopsided grin. "You betcha, femme. Whoops, looks like they're waitin' for me over there."

The mech sauntered off to the shuttle while Verasuvius wandered over to Starscream and Skywarp, shaking her helm and smiling faintly. Skywarp gave her an odd look when she stopped next to him.

"Why do you like that ground-pounder so much, anyway?"

"He keeps me amused. I suppose I'll have to find another source for that, now. Pity." The femme smirked as she brushed a speck of dust from her armor, and Starscream pretended he wasn't listening, though internally he was trying to figure out if she was lying or not.

Ricochet was halfway up the ramp when the fields of metal surrounding the base erupted with Autobots.

"Battle stations!" Verasuvius commanded over the alarm klaxons wailing across the base. "Ricochet, you have field command!"

Ricochet was already moving toward his post and barely paused to salute. The black seeker joined Starscream and Skywarp in the air to survey the situation. The Autobots were moving quickly to attack all guards and patrols outside the base walls. Teams of mecha were setting up some moderately heavy artillery, aimed at the weak points in their defenses, all of which were, of course, known to them. Under the original circumstances of their plan, the base would have been won within a joor or two at the most. Unfortunately, original circumstances had not included an armada of seekers being stationed there.

"Skywarp, what are you waiting for, you useless excuse for an air commander?! Attack!" Starscream demanded. Skywarp was gone by the time he was done saying it, face twisting in anger as he spotted the one Autobot he always looked for on any battlefield; Thunderous Prime.

"Will you be joining me in the command center, my lord?" Verasuvius asked.

"What do you take me for, an imbecile? Of course I will! As if I could entrust such a battle solely to you and your groundlings." The Decepticon Lord spat at her, dropping back to the ground as the landing pads started locking down. He led the way back to the command center, stomping angrily down the halls as response teams scurried to their posts.

The instant Starscream swept into the command center, he shoved the Decepticons manning the comms out of the way and tried to contact his generals. He screeched in fury when the communication wouldn't go through.

"My Lord, there's a comm block up, we're trying to break through it." One of the mechs informed him.

"Try harder!" Starscream snarled at the unfortunate 'Con. He whirled away from the communication console while the officer whined out an apology, striding over to the tactical command feed and shoving Verasuvius out of the way to take control. The first thing he did, unfortunately, was to order Skywarp to send one of his seekers out with a message to relay to the Decepticon generals once he traveled beyond the communication dead zone. Truly, Starscream was not a bad strategist—but he was easily frustrated, and became increasingly so as bad news and more bad news poured into the command center. The Decepticon Lord let out a vicious snarl as reports started filtering in of the Autobot's numbers.

"This is almost their entire force!" he screeched, to no one in particular. "How could Soundwave have _missed_ their movements?!" he shot a glare and snarl at the femme standing at his shoulder. "How did _you_ miss them congregating below your base?!"

Verasuvius backed off a few steps, holding her hands up in defense. "My Lord, we never expected such an attack here, the catacombs are almost impossible to monitor, we had no way to know—"

" _SILENCE_ , YOU USELESS WORM!" Starscream bellowed, whipping around with fist raised. The femme staggered at the punch, falling to her hands and knees. The Decepticon leader leveled his null ray at her helm, sneering down at her. "Your _incompetence_ may very well cost you your _life_."

Verasuvius' wings pulled back, her optics widening. "My Lord, please-!"

But then the larger seeker turned away as a new report came in. The fortifications were taking heavy damage and the fixed artillery was failing left and right. The engineers and technicians were crying sabotage. The situation was deteriorating so quickly it was ludicrous.

Starscream was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He was going to figure out what was going on sooner rather than later, and Star was quite sure he would not hesitate to end her when he did. Or at least try to. She certainly wasn't going to stick around for that, which is why she was halfway to the door when the emergency channel lit up.

/They're in the base! They're coming from the storage rooms! Autobots are in—/

The transmission cut off with a squeal of static. Starscream whirled to see Verasuvius beating a hasty retreat out of the command center and he fired at her with a furious shriek. "YOU TREACHEROUS—"

Star threw herself to the side as she was met with a barrage of laserfire outside of the command center as well. To her great surprise, it was a contingent of _femmes_ racing down the hall, intent on taking control. She wasted no more time transforming and getting out of the kill box. She heard Starscream's roar of fury and then the explosion of his engines behind her and felt a stab of disappointment that the femmes hadn't managed to catch him. Then she focused on not letting him catch her before she could make it to open sky.

She managed to lose the Decepticon Lord and get past roaming squads of Autobots without taking more than a few glancing shots, and was finally out in the open. She set about checking on her work. The command center was ramping up to full functionality with the codes she had given Thunderous to distribute to the commanders. What had been spotty coverage of the battle raging outside would now be comprehensive all the way to the edges of the province. The Autobot command channels lit up with cohesive directions as Smokescreen took over tactical command of the battle, freeing up Thunderous Prime to focus on getting rid of the Decepticon seekers always on his tail. She checked the base's artillery, casually strafing the few heavy guns that were still functioning, and checked the communication block that would keep them isolated from the rest of the Decepticon's forces. Everything was going almost perfectly according to plan, despite the seekers, but of course that couldn't last forever, and the universe saw fit to throw them one last curve ball just when victory seemed in sight.

/We have Decepticon reinforcements en route, ETA five breems!/

Star cursed under her breath. There was no way Starscream's messenger could have gotten out of the block, delivered his message, and gotten the other commanders to scramble their troops so quickly. These ones had to have been already en route, and that could only mean one thing; Soundwave had not been quite as fooled by their careful ruse to throw him off as they had hoped.

They pushed hard and made a lot of progress in the short five breems they had. The Autobots completely overran the Tagan heights base, forcing the Decepticons out. The sabotaged artillery was quickly repaired, as per instructions Star had given Thunderous to pass on to his mechanics and engineers, but the Decepticons had undeniable air superiority, despite Thunderous' and the three Aerialbots' efforts. That gap only widened as Soundwave arrived with his entire armada.

What had been a near victory turned into a harsh battle for the province. The artillery was in Autobot hands, yes, but the necessary sabotage to get them there had left them weaker than they should have been. Under Starscream's command, nearly all of them were successfully strafed, leaving the Autobots with precious little ground-to-air defense. The Protectobots had combined into Defensor near the beginning of the battle and had been instrumental in taking down some of the base's fortifications, but they, too, were quickly scattered in the face of the seeker's efforts. Star and Thunderous had not planned for an extended struggle. They couldn't have—the Autobots did not have the resources for such a conflict. The Prime was trying his best to keep the seekers occupied, but there were only the five of them in the air, and they simply couldn't hold all 34 Decepticon seeker's attention.

Star interrupted a strafing run, plunging straight through the formation to scatter them. She swooped low to transform, landing back to back with the only other Autobot on the field sporting a Decepticon insignia. His treachery having been realized and his blue visor only cementing that disloyalty, the mech had gotten himself surrounded while trying to defend an artillery gun. Together, Star and Jazz made quick work of the Decepticons. Star whirled to take off again.

Jazz lashed out, grabbing her arm. She glanced back sharply, taking in his serious expression.

(IM3)"They got more reinforcements comin'. We can't handle much more of this, Star. If you're gonna pull out your backup plan, now's th'time." He told her over the cacophony of war.

She held his gaze for a long moment, her optics still red. She had not dared a shape-shift, for this exact reason. What she was about to do was going to take every joule of energy she had access to. With a sharp nod, the saboteur released her and she leaped into a transformation. Instead of heading to rejoin the battle above her, though, she flew straight and hard for the Sonic Canyon.

The chasm yawned wide beneath her as she rocketed over the edge. She angled herself down and poured on the power. A second before she plowed into the wall at top speed, she transformed and curled into herself. The impact sent a tremor through the very ground, too faint to notice, and with a roar heard even above the noise of the pitched battle, several kilometer's worth of unstable canyon wall broke free and began to tumble down to the floor of the geological formation.

From the mass of falling metal, thrusters exploded to life and the Nova rocketed through the chaos, heading almost directly for the opposite wall of the canyon. This time, the tremor of impact was noticeable to any who were standing still enough, and the added roar of several more kilometers of freefalling metal was obvious. A third impact and the rumble emanating from the canyons was impossible to ignore. The battle hesitated, instinct warning every mecha on the field that something big was happening, the very air charged with some unrecognizable power.

Within the canyon, Star fell with the last bulk of metal she had jarred free, extending her awareness and power out to the fragmented elements, pushing her magnetic influence. She took control of the shattered metal, and for a timeless moment, seven square kilometers worth of Sonic Canyon stopped falling.

Star Nova's optics onlined blazingly, burningly white.

Faction Lock Engaged. Commencing Annihilation. (1:14)

A solid wave of metal shards erupted from the fissure, heralded by the form of the Nova. She rose above them all, arms spread as if raising the Pit itself. Then she gestured forward, and a billion blades descended on the battlefield in a cascade of death. The metal swept through the warring factions like the vicious winds that drove the storms on the Sea of Rust. The jagged claws of the Nova found every enemy as she danced a deadly dance across the sky. Most never knew what hit them as the fragments of metal slammed through their chassis.

Chaos reigned as the battle gave way before the Nova's power. Every Decepticon fell before her wrath. Every Autobot was left untouched. The enemy seekers turned on Star, desperate to take her down, and with an almost negligent wave of her hand the swirling metal rose up like a living thing. The less agile flyers were swallowed whole, their chassis thrown to the ground forcefully. The rest scattered, some peeling off in a bid for freedom. Only a handful obeyed their orders to attack again.

Thunderous Prime and the two Aerialbots still airborne roared to her defense. As the fighting on the ground came to a swift close and Star's power began to wane, she released her control on most of the metal, turning her full attention to the few seekers foolish enough to carry on the fight. The Autobots on the battlefield were left with piles of energon-slicked metal and hundreds of dead bodies. Only five of them had the presence of mind to be doing anything useful.

Jazz was flat out sprinting across the uneven landscape. Star was flagging, he could see it from here in the way her movements were losing their confident fluidity, in the rain of fragmented metal falling out of her control, in the way her attempts to ground the remaining seekers came dangerously close to taking out their own flyers. Skywarp teleported out of the way of one strike, only to be smacked down the instant he reappeared. He fell toward the ground limply, and after a moment of hesitation Thunderous Prime dove after him. The Aerialbots chased off two other seekers. Star dropped the remaining bits of metal still under her power, sagging in exhaustion. Jazz cursed savagely, fighting to get closer in time to help.

One last Decepticon was left in the air, leveling his null ray at Star. As drained as she was, she had barely noticed him before he fired. Starscream's aim was true and the shot (2:27) exploded against the dark femme's back, illuminating the larger seeker's snarl of hate and rage for only an instant.

Jazz raced for the edge of the canyon, for the sheer drop-off and the unstable cliff, pushing his battle-weary systems into the red zone. He transformed his grappling hook out of his arm. The roar of Thunderous' powerful jet engine, vibrating the very metal beneath his feet as the Prime hurried to challenge the Decepticon Lord, was only distant background noise as the whole world slowed to watch Star fall out of the sky, tumbling from her home among the winking lights. Jazz could see that she was going to fall into the canyon, and while she might have survived the few hundred meters to hit the Heights, he was fairly sure not even she could survive hitting the ground several _thousand_ meters at the bottom of the canyon. Not in the state she was in.

He skidded, only a step away from going over the cliff as well, twirling his grapple and praying as he let it fly.

Star never saw the grapple coming as her vision swarmed with damage reports, errors, flashing warnings of critical energy levels, and stasis lock preparing to engage. But Jazz's aim was good and the line wrapped around her arm as she tumbled head over heels past the edge of the cliff. The hook latched onto itself and tightened. The line went taut and she began to swing toward the wall of metal.

Impact was not kind. Jazz winced in sympathy, but breathed out a sigh of relief, gasping to cool his racing systems. For an instant, he had her. Her god-like intervention had won them the battle, Starscream was retreating as Thunderous roared after him across the sky, the Tagan Heights was theirs, and they were both alive. All he had to do was haul her up here and get her to Ratchet, and they could both be done. They could set Ricochet and Verasuvius aside forever and be Autobots again, fight again, be _safe_ again. It was finally over.

All he had to do was pull her to safety and they could actually go home.

He started backing up, retracting the cable, grinning with exhausted victory. Then the ground gave a spark-chilling moan. There was a deep snap, the metal shifted, and to Jazz's horror the side of the cliff began to collapse.

Star, much closer to the cliff face and more familiar with the sounds of the canyon, heard it coming. She blearily fought past the fuzziness and creeping darkness of her vision to look up. The grapple was hooked around her wrist now, tight and firm. Jazz's only option to save himself from being dragged off the cliff with her was to cut the line. And Star knew, deep in her spark, that he would never do that.

So she fought the heaviness in her limbs and mind, as the metal groaned as if in agony, to reach up, pulling a dagger from her subspace. She had time for one short comm, her voice hardly more than a soft whisper as the fatigue drug at every system.

/I'm sorry, Jazz./

The slab of cliff side lurched, and as it began its ponderous fall to the floor of the canyon exactly 11.206 kilometers below, Star cut the grapple line and fell with it.

Jazz pitched over backwards as the weight disappeared from the cord, stumbling back to safer ground and collapsing heavily to one knee as he watched the edge disappear in dismay, knowing his grappling line was hanging empty over the side. "NO!" he yelled hoarsely, diving to the edge to look down, hoping to see her there, flying up to meet him and laugh at him for panicking. All he could see was the tumbling, rolling mass of fragmented metal as it crashed and bounced off the rest of the canyon to get to the bottom, probably crushing the black seeker as it went.

"NO! WE PROMISED TO FINISH THIS TOGETHER! YOU CAN'T JUST—"

"Jazz!" someone called, snatching him away from his precarious spot on the edge of the cliff. He shoved away from the mech, starting into a stilted run back toward the base and the elevator that would take him to the canyon floor so he could find his partner and save her. They had promised… they were going to finish their mission and go home _together_. It couldn't end like this…

He didn't make it far. He had taken damage during the fight, and in straining his systems so hard earlier, he had burned up too much energy. His visor was blue, but his frame was still easily recognizable as Ricochet. Someone took a shot and he went down _hard_.

"Aw, frag, someone get Ratchet," he heard the same mech call out, the sound distant as a string of warnings and errors flashed across his vision. Hands lifted him, voices argued around him about 'a Decepticon', 'Ricochet', something about 'the brig'. He currently didn't have the energy or the mental faculties to interpret the events when he was still panicking about saving Star.

Eventually, though, one voice did cut through the chaos around him and in his own head.

"HEY!" a familiar voice snarled, silencing the confused crowd of Autobots. "Prime says he's one of ours, and _we_ know for a fact he is. Autobot Jazz. Head of Special Operations. Haven't any of you idiots heard of being 'under cover'?"

Jazz's helm shot up and he struggled to focus on the mech who had spoken. When he finally did, all he could do was gape. A chuckle came from his other side and he looked to the second mech holding him up.

"Oh, look, he remembers us," the 'Bot said, grinning. Twin stripes of red ran down his heavily damaged armor, mirrored in gold on the first mech, and one optic was dead and grey. They'd both obviously been through hell, but they were still recognizable—and standing, which was more than could be said for the saboteur at the moment.

Jazz tried to voice the question in his head, but all that came out was sharp static. The next moment, Ratchet arrived on scene and said it for him.

"What in the PIT is going on here?!"

And with that, Jazz dropped into stasis.

~0~

It was a circumstance of pure luck. The tunnel had been exposed when the canyon wall came down, and had left a small protrusion where the Autobots had halfheartedly tried to reinforce it ages ago. It was luck that she had managed to hold on to the grappling hook. Further luck that the hook had caught on the protrusion. Luck again that she had had the strength to hold onto the short bit of cord left, and had thus been able to swing into the dark, little-used tunnel beyond.

She crashed and rolled without even an attempt to catch herself. Shards of canyon wall were jammed into joints and armor seams—anywhere the tumbling mass had been able to shove them. She was leaking energon at a dangerous rate. It was a miracle she wasn't in stasis yet, and she fought it off a bit longer as someone approached. The mech knelt down next to her, black and white among the grey.

"Star?"

A familiar presence met her defenses, a well-known spark signature filling the tunnel. After every curveball they had suffered, the universe had finally seen fit to cut them some slack. Star let herself slip into stasis, knowing she would wake up among friends as she did.

The mech frowned, eying the heavily damaged femme out of only semi-functioning optics, and then carefully took one of her arms and started dragging her down the tunnel. Unable to contact anybody and with no supplies on hand to repair her, it was the best he could do.

~0~

The battle had ended for most joors ago. For the medical staff, the battle was only just beginning to wane. Ratchet glanced up sharply when Bluestreak came striding through the med-bay doors, doorwings twitching and rifle gripped tightly.

"If you're not injured then get out!" The medic barked automatically, and then did a double take. Was that… was that a tentative expression of _hope_ on the young Praxian's face? Ratchet hadn't seen that sort of expression— _any_ sort of expression—on the gunner's face in… Primus, it felt like it had been vorns.

Seeing he had the CMO's attention, Bluestreak hesitantly opened his mouth. "Is… is it true?" he asked, his voice almost lost beneath the activity of the full med-bay. "Is he here?"

"He shouldn't be!" Ratchet snapped, irritation welling up at the reminder, and then it was swept away by compassion the next moment at the way Bluestreak's optics lit up. "But yes, he is. Still in recovery room three talking to Thunderous, I believe."

The Praxian was gone before he'd finished the sentence. But Ratchet had been reminded that he had three other patients in need of serious work right now, and he turned back to tell his technician that he would have to finish the few remaining repairs on their current patient alone. First Aid had beaten him to it, though, and waved him on before he could even start. He nodded, a smile flitting across his face—relief at having the other medic at his side again. They had so few fully-trained medics left, these days.

Ratchet hurried over to the isolated recovery rooms in the Tagan Heights medical bay, hesitated between rooms two and three, and then moved to the one on his right.

~0~

Bluestreak didn't know what to feel or think as he stood just inside the recovery room door, staring at the occupants as they stared back. He was only peripherally aware of it when Thunderous Prime stepped back, trying to give them more space in the relatively small room. The second mech stood, the movement taking obvious effort, and held out a hand.

"Bluestreak," he said quietly.

For the first time in nearly half a vorn, Bluestreak subspaced his rifle. He stepped forward, a quiet keen escaping him as he ignored the outstretched hand in favor of taking the other Praxian in a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry." The younger mech whispered. "I should have been faster, I could have—"

"You did what you could. All of you did. I blame nobody but those responsible, and you are not, Bluestreak. It's alright."

The sniper gave a shaky smile, pulling back to take in the other mech's damage again. It was extensive. Bluestreak would have been shocked he was functioning at all if he didn't know better. He cycled out a vent of air it felt like he'd been holding for decavorns and hugged his caretaker again.

"I'm so glad you're alive, Prowl."

~0~

Jazz woke up swinging. The only thing that saved Ratchet from a nasty injury at the saboteur's hands was his familiarity with the mech and well-honed reflex.

"Jazz, calm down, you're safe," he snapped, trying to hold the mech down without damaging anyone or thing. In only another instant the mech went stiff, sensors going wide, and he relaxed as soon as he recognized where he was and who was with him.

"Lay down so I can check your welds, you fragging idiot." Ratchet grumbled, pulling out a scanner to do just that. He still felt a twinge of joy every time he used the equipment in the well-stocked med-bay. Primus knew he'd grown tired of fighting with his scant, portable tools while traveling with Thunderous.

"Wait!" Jazz exclaimed, tensing again as his memory caught up to him. "Star?"

"Hm. Almost expected you to ask about the twins first." The CMO muttered. "She's… well, _alive_ , anyway. Recovering, but slowly. It may be orns yet before she regains consciousness. She'd lost so much energon and her spark readings were so low I thought for sure she wouldn't pull through, but once again the Nova has surprised me." Ratchet sighed, expression warring between irritation and relief.

"An' the twins. I didn' hallucinate them, then." Jazz said.

Ratchet smirked. "You did not. They're alive and functional, though the details of that miracle are still hazy. I expect you can interrogate them as soon as they come out of stasis. They were in very poor conditions, Prowl even more so."

Jazz almost fell off the berth sitting up so fast. "Prowl's alive, too?" he whispered. He almost couldn't believe it.

"Indeed, though I have no idea how." The medic grumbled, sorting through the scanner data and pushing the smaller mech into laying down again.

"But… Star looked for 'em right after it happened. How…?"

"Jazz, I don't know. All I know is that they ended up with the femmes somehow. You'll have to wait for the details with the rest of us. For now, lay still. You fragged up your systems with all that red-zoning you were doing."

Jazz shrunk a bit under the CMO's stink-eye, and decided to keep his mouth shut. It didn't stop the wide grin that spread across his face, though.

He was alive. Star was alive. By some inexplicable miracle, Prowl and the twins were alive, too. And the Tagan Heights were under Autobot control. It wasn't going to be easy to keep it that way, that was for certain, but they weren't going to give it up without a fight.

Jazz reached up to cushion his head with his hands, crossing his ankles and smirking at his medic and friend. "Y'know, we just might turn this whole war around after all." He quipped.

The smile Ratchet shot back at him almost caught the saboteur off guard.

"You know, we just might."


	10. Aftermath

Chapter 10: Aftermath

Thunderous sighed, running a hand over his face. It was a habit he'd started doing a lot more often recently. The seeker in the brig cell before him didn't move so much as an inch, and hadn't since the Prime had arrived and he had turned his back to Thunderous.

"Skywarp…" he started again, and then paused, wings drooping. Silence settled in the Tagan Heights brig for a long moment. "You think I had a choice in this?" he finally asked quietly. "Because I didn't. If I'd known—" He cut himself off, still unsure after all this time what he would have done if he had known.

"Well you sure as pit didn't have to take it from Starscream, did you?" Skywarp growled lowly.

"No. I didn't." The larger seeker agreed softly. "But it happened. I can't change it now, Warp. And I _have_ to do this."

"Why?" The other seeker snapped, still with his back to the Prime.

"Because we were wrong!" Thunderous snapped back, and then sighed, slumping. "We always were, Warp, and I knew that, somewhere in my spark. I just didn't have the bearings to act on it."

Skywarp didn't answer, and the Prime leaned back against the wall, running a hand over his face. After a long moment he muttered, "This isn't a good place for you to be, Warp."

Skywarp spun his turbines in a way that was sarcastically dismissive. It was a noise only he could make, and Thunderous had never quite figured out how he did it.

"I mean _especially_ for you." He growled. "There are a lot of Autobots who want your helm on a stick for what happened to Prowl."

Skywarp snorted. "Would've got _you_ if the little fragger hadn't gotten in the way." He shifted at last to glance over his shoulder. "Would they want my head if I _had_ grabbed you instead of him?"

Thunderous shrugged slightly. "I don't know. Probably not as many of them. But it wouldn't change anything. This is where I am now, Skywarp. And I wish you could be here with me—"

"Yeah, don't hold your vents or anything."

"I'm not. But if you change your mind…"

"I won't."

Thunderous sighed, rolling his optics. "I don't know why I even try." He grumbled, and turned to the door. He paused on his way out, checking to be sure his left hand was hidden from the cameras. "I'm sorry this came between us more than anything Starscream ever did, Warp." He admitted. "But I can't really say I'm sorry it happened."

Skywarp didn't answer, and finally the Prime left.

~0~

Jazz was leaning over her with the hugest grin on his face when she finally booted up. And it was 100% Jazz, too, not a trace of Ricochet left on his frame. That told Star the most important thing, so she offlined her optics again.

"Go away." She muttered.

"Aww, c'mon, femme, doncha wanna hear what happened?" Jazz laughed.

"Shoo." Ratchet waved the saboteur away and Jazz retreated a few steps. The medic ran a scan over the femme without comment, frowning at what he saw. He walked away, still without saying a word.

Jazz snickered. "Y'know, ya really shouldn't stay under so long, I think Ratch's angrier now than he was when it happened. Th'shock an' awe musta worn off."

Star hummed, reaching up to gingerly touch her throbbing helm. The med-bay doors opened and heavy footsteps drew near. The Nova smiled a tiny bit.

"Thunderous," she greeted.

"Star. How do you feel?" The Prime returned.

"Like my head's going to split open. How are you?"

"Well enough."

Ratchet returned with a cube of green-blue energon and plopped it down on the berth next to her head. Star cracked her optics open. "Can I get a pain chip while you're up?" she asked. The CMO turned a withering look on her while he changed the settings on a monitor, and she tried not to smile. "Aw, I missed you, too, Ratchet."

Ratchet growled, his expression darkening, and Star tried not to flinch as he stomped back over, brandishing a wrench.

"Don't hit my head, it hurts!" the seeker whined, lifting her arms to shield it.

"You almost died!" Ratchet barked, slamming the wrench down on the berth beside her, making her jump a bit.

"We would have lost the province otherwise!" Star defended herself.

"You didn't have to drag half the canyon up to win the battle!" the medic snarled, waving his wrench around violently. "You didn't have to keep it up as long as you did, _we_ could have handled the rest! But nooooo the Nova has to show off until it fragging kills her, doesn't she?!"

"I was not showing off!" Star protested, and then shrank when the CMO loomed over her. "Okay, I was showing off a little bit. But they're not coming back here any time soon, are they?"

"I don't care." Ratchet growled, jabbing his wrench into her shoulder to accent his words. "It was unnecessary, and it wouldn't have done us any good if you had died. The only reason you didn't is because you somehow managed to crash your sorry aft into the tunnel Prowl happened to be lost in."

"Fragging pit!" Star sat up fast. "That _was_ Prowl in the tunnel, wasn't it?" She slumped over, putting her head into her hands and moaning at the stabbing pain the abrupt movement had sent through it. Ratchet snatched the energon off the berth and shoved it at her.

"Drink this, you moron." He snapped, and then stomped off to finish putting away monitors and medical devices.

Star took it with a wince at the bright med-bay lights, which her head had decided were now a problem. She slowly turned to let her legs hang off the side of the berth, sipping from the cube. Jazz vaulted over the berth and landed next to her.

"You are not gonna believe how Prowl an' th'twins managed t'not die!" he crowed. Star flinched at his volume, and then glanced at him sharply. "Aw yeah, you heard tha' right!" Jazz exclaimed gleefully. "They made it out, too!"

The seeker leaned down suddenly, narrowing her optics on the mech. "Modulate your volume or I will punch you in the throat." She growled.

Jazz snickered. "A'right, jeez, no need t'get all testy."

Star glanced back as someone moved, and caught Thunderous trying to sneak back out of the med-bay. "Prime," she called, and the large seeker turned back. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked, and then waved him over, patting the spot next to her. "C'mon. Sit with us for a while."

"I have some things that I should see to," he tried to excuse himself.

"Are there alarms going off?" Star asked.

Thunderous paused, looking confused. "No?"

"Then it can wait. Sit." The Prime shifted, uncomfortable. The Nova narrowed her gaze. "Sit down, Thunderous Prime." She ordered. Jazz smirked at him and finally the seeker flicked his wings back, giving in. He trudged over and Star and Jazz scooted to the end of the berth so the huge mech would have room. As soon as he sat, the femme looped her arm through his with a smile, and turned back to Jazz.

"Alright. Now go."

"A'right, so here's what I got between th'three o' them. So Prowl got dragged straight t'Darkmount, 'cause they knew he knew where TP was hidin' out an' all, an' th'twins ended up there after an orn or so, too, after they wouldn' break. About five joors after th'twins get there, an' by now all three of 'em are in pretty bad condition, th'alarms start goin' off. Th'next thing th'twins know, th'powers goin' out. So they high-tail it outta th'brig, get about half a hallway away, an' get jumped from behind. Meanwhile, Starscream had been workin' on Prowl in an interrogation room, left right when th'alarms went off, an' then th'power went out right when a guard was comin' in. So Prowl plays dead until th'guard's not lookin', an' then jumps 'im. _He_ heads down th'hall, turns a corner, and finds a coupla femmes standin' there!"

Star shook her helm. "Should have known that attack was the femmes."

"Right? So they stand there lookin' at each other fer a second, an' then one of 'em tossed a stun grenade at Prowler, an' in his state it sent 'im straight t'stasis. Next thing any of 'em knew, they were wakin' up in th'femmes med-bay all alone with just a little note scratched on their arms tellin' 'em where everybody'd gone."

Star sighed. "If Starscream wasn't such a proud aft, we might have known it was the femmes that sent Darkmount into lockdown and I would have known to look for them there."

"I know, right?" Jazz tilted his helm, obviously rolling his optics behind his visor. "So the three of 'em got up an' hurried over. Missed mosta th'action, o'course, but got here in time for Prowl t'save you an' th'twins ta save me."

"Save you from what?" Star demanded.

Jazz shrugged. "Someone took a shot at me after ya fell inta th'canyon. They mighta killed me right there if th'twins hadn't stood up fo' me."

"Hm." She eyed the short mech for a moment, and then asked, "What was Prowl doing lost in the tunnels if he'd been with the twins?"

"He sent 'em ahead, since he was a lot more damaged than they were. Y'know he drug ya around for almost a joor before he found 'is way t'the community? Woulda left ya somewhere an' come back for ya, but he didn' know if he'd be able t'find ya again if he did."

"He was running on fumes by the time a medic got to him, and you were even worse." Ratchet complained as he came back over with a scanner. "Move, you two." He ordered. Jazz and Thunderous shifted away from the femme so the scanner could get a good reading on her. Jazz moved back and Star pulled the Prime back once the medic was done. Ratchet pursed his lips, humming at the readouts. "Your energy levels are climbing steadily and your spark is stable." He finally reported, and lowered the scanner to glare at the femme. "You may go, but you are on medical leave until I say you're not. Understand? That means no showing off!"

Star grinned impishly, but the expression fell when she glanced down at herself. She still looked like Verasuvius, even if Jazz didn't look like Ricochet anymore. "What about my frame?"

Ratchet frowned. "Slow shift. You can change your optic color and your insignias for now, but the rest better be a slow transition. You'd better not be in here for any reason other than a check-up until you are off leave, femme." He growled. He held up a hand, showing her a pain chip. "Understand?"

"Yes, Ratchet. I promise not to overtax myself." The seeker said with as much innocence as she could muster. Ratchet only glared as he handed the chip over. Star quickly inserted it into a port and sighed as her headache disappeared.

"Now get out." The CMO snapped.

The three of them quickly vacated the med-bay. "So what's happened since the battle?" Star asked, blinking her optics a few times as they slowly shifted to blue.

"Well." Jazz started. "Didn't get Screamer, too bad 'bout that. We did manage t'capture Skywarp, but a couple joors later he escaped. Some sort of malfunction with Percy's anti-warp field." The saboteur stared over the femme's head at Thunderous. "Still not sure what happened there." He said.

The Prime's engines coughed uncomfortably, but he didn't comment. Star and Jazz smirked.

"Probably for the best." Star speculated.

"Prob'ly." Jazz agreed. "Other than that, we got Autobots flocking t'our door from all over Cybertron. Haven't seen th'femmes since the battle—they left as quick as they came, no trace of 'em. Might be a good idea for ya t'start getting' in contact with 'em more often. We need t'start coordinatin' our efforts an' stuff."

"That should be doable, now that I'm not tied down here." Star agreed. A group of Autobots turned a corner and stopped suddenly when they saw the three of them. Star and Jazz smiled and greeted them casually as they passed. None of them answered, skirting around the trio with odd looks and hushed whispers.

"They'll get over it, 'ventually. Jus' give 'em some time." Jazz stage-whispered to the seekers as they went around the same corner.

Star lifted her wings. "I'm sure it'll be better once I don't look like… this." She gestured at her sleek black frame, pursing her lips.

Jazz chuckled. "I dunno, kinda always liked Verasuvius' style."

"Ugh, stylish, yes, but a monster to keep up. You can see every scratch and fleck of dust ever, and I hate having to worry about it. Besides, nobody else has this nice of a paint job, I stick out."

"Hey, you should see some 'o th'paint jobs people are gettin' now that they have that option again. Yikes." Jazz shook his head with a grin. "Been so long since they've had a paint job that some of 'em forgot how t'match colors!"

Star pushed him a bit. "Just because you had the privilege of a nice paint job this whole time! They'll get over that, too, I'm sure."

"Y'should keep th'black, though. Looks good on ya." Jazz said with a wink.

The femme snorted with laughter, pushing him again. "You flirting with me, short stuff?"

Jazz put a hand to his chest as the elevator door opened in front of them. "Me? Naw, never. Can't I give ya a compliment, femme?"

Star crossed her arms over her chest, peering down at the mech as he grinned his widest, most innocent grin. "I suppose. Thank you. Maybe I will keep the black."

"Ya missed th'big party, y'know." Jazz mentioned as the elevator rose.

"Did I." the Nova rolled her optics with a smirk.

"It was pretty wild. Been a long time since I been t'a party I actually enjoyed." Jazz speculated, the ghost of a frown on his face.

"Hm. Well, guess I should have been there, then." Star said, her expression softening a bit.

"TP didn't seem too thrilled with it, though." Jazz grinned up at the huge seeker taking up half the elevator.

For his part, Thunderous Prime wasn't sure why he was still following them or where they were even going. He frowned slightly at the minibot. "I'm not a huge fan of parties." He admitted.

"Well, I'm just gonna hafta fix that, aren't I?" Jazz announced, putting his hands on his hips. ""Cause, y'know, Optimus wasn't either, an Prowl still isn't, but at least they never looked like they wanted t'crawl outta their own armor when they were there."

Thunderous almost looked offended at that.

"Ooooh, he went and called you out, Prime!" Star crowed, laughing as she stepped out of the elevator and into her quarters.

She stopped suddenly, looking around the circular room as if seeing it for the first time. Datacases full of files, pristine couches, delicate crystal formations that she had carved herself littering every horizontal surface, the little table by the window facing the Hole… She sighed.

"Buncha mechs tried t'bring it down when they couldn't get up here t'ransack th'place." Jazz said. "Hot Spot nixed that, though."

The saboteur wandered toward the table, tapping the floor to bring up the energon dispenser.

"We _should_ bring it down." Star murmured. Thunderous glanced at her, surprised. "Verasuvius lived here." She explained quietly. "It was a symbol of power and rank. Alternatively, it gave me and Jazz a safe place to be ourselves, to remember why we were here." She smiled up at the Prime, accepting the cube of green-blue energon Jazz handed her. "We don't need any of that anymore."

Jazz held up a cube of high-grade to Thunderous, grinning, and when the small mech clearly wasn't going to take 'no' as an answer, the seeker took it.

"To Thunderous Prime." Star said with a smile, lifting her cube. "Because if you hadn't happened, we would still be Verasuvius and Ricochet, and this province would still belong to the Decepticons."

"I hear that!" Jazz agreed, lifting his cube as well.

Thunderous frowned down at the cube of high-grade. "You didn't need me to do this." He said.

"'Course we did." Jazz protested.

"No." The Prime looked up, confused and almost a little lost. "You didn't. I'm not the strategist Prowl is. I'm not an inspiring leader of any sort—I didn't even want to be the air commander. I didn't have resources the way you did, and I'm not powerful the way you are, Nova. I didn't bring anything to the table; you already had what you needed to do this. You didn't _need_ me. That's what I don't understand. That's what I've never understood." He admitted quietly, looking down.

Star smiled softly. "Sources of light so often fail to recognize what they contribute to everyone around them." She said, and took a sip of energon. Thunderous stared at her, even more confused. Jazz chuckled.

"Ya know what we didn't have that'cha brought, TP?" the minibot looked up at him, visor bright. "Hope." He lifted his cube. "So here's t'hope."

Star lifted her cube as well, and this time they waited for the Prime to join them. And he did. He put a hand to his chest as he followed them over to the couches. The matrix was burning next to his spark like a torch, and that was how he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Jazz was right. He wasn't supposed to be a strategist, or an inspirational speaker, or lift metric tons of metal with the wave of a hand. They already had people who did those things.

He was just there to be a beacon of hope. And that task would have been more daunting than the others combined, but he finally understood that it wasn't him. He was merely a vessel. An active Matrix of Leadership and someone to channel the wisdom in it was what the Autobots had been missing, and his simple existence was filling that need. All he had to do was continue to exist, and allow the Matrix to speak through him.

He smiled, finally, as Jazz filled Star in on the party she had missed with enthusiasm, even chuckling a bit at the mech's theatrics. A weight was gone from his spark, and for the first time since he had acquired it, the Matrix was comfortable in his chest.

He could do this. And who knew? They might even turn this whole war around.


	11. Epilogue: Repairations

AN: Whoops! Accidentally posted these as the same chapter. : P

* * *

The femme stood at the corner, hands clasped tightly, armor flaring nervously. Gone were Verasuvius' sleek curves and edges; in their place was still a seeker femme, but one much more comfortable to the Autobot Star Nova. Her paint scheme was still mostly black, which Jazz had complimented her on when she finally did change her colors, with grey and blue highlights.

Typically the epitome of confidence, it was odd for anyone who didn't know the source of her discomfort to see her so worked up. Jazz was standing beside her, frowning.

"We can't put it off much longer, Star." He said softly. "I've been avoidin' 'im for decacycles now."

"I know." She whispered back. She dropped her hands to her sides and took a deep vent, stilling her armor. She nodded. "Alright. Let's do this."

She walked around the corner and a few steps down the hall, where there was a door. Beyond the door was a mostly empty barracks. There were three mechs in the room, two of them playing cards at a table at the other end, and one sprawled on his berth, reading a datapad. Star and Jazz edged toward the mech on the berth, until he looked up and noticed them. Then they both froze.

After a long moment, which even the two mechs playing cards noticed and fell silent for, Hound slowly got up. He set his datapad down and came to attention. "Can I help you with something, officers?" he asked politely.

Star took another deep vent. "We need to talk, Hound." She glanced at the other end of the room, and the mechs quickly went back to their card game. "Will you walk with us?"

"Only if ya want to." Jazz blurted, and then seemed to shrink a bit, his armor clamping even tighter.

Hound stared at them for a long moment, and neither of them would fully meet his gaze. He finally nodded. Jazz's armor relaxed slightly as they followed the forest green mech out of the barracks, and then took the lead out to the shipping docks. The docks were as empty as the barracks, designed to accommodate planetary and even interplanetary shuttle traffic, and currently only seeing province traffic.

Star stopped on a pad far away from the action and watched the shuttle-former coming in to dock. Skyfire had barely been alive when a team had recovered him several vorns ago. He'd spent most of the time since in stasis, too large to run at any efficiency on the energon his team had been able to procure. They'd retrieved him as soon as they found the Canyon community, shortly before they took the province, and he'd insisted on being as useful as possible now that he could be again.

Eventually, the femme turned around and looked at Hound. "I am not the Nova right now. I am only the person who murdered your best friend, and I'm not going to give you any excuses for it. I am so sorry, Hound." Her shoulders and wings slumped, and she hung her head in shame and sorrow. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Hound was silent for almost two breems. Neither officer moved in all that time, waiting for the scout's judgement on them. "I understand." Was what he forced out finally. Then he shook his head. "I'm not saying I forgive you. But I understand why, and I believe you."

"Thank you." Star murmured, looking up to meet his gaze.

Hound nodded and walked away.

~0~

 _1 vorn later_

Star stepped into the small cavern, glancing around. "You know it would be easier for both of us if you would just let me come to your base."

"It's not going to happen. Stop asking." A disembodied voice replied. A shadow moved on the far end of the chamber.

Star shrugged her wings. "Well, I brought a table this time. Don't know about you, but I'm tired of planning on the floor." She lifted her hands to pull the folding table out of her subspace and paused as a slight tingle ran over her armor. Target lock. She continued slowly. "I see you brought Moonracer again. How are you, girl?"

There was no answer. Star finished setting up the table with a sigh and pulled out a datapad. It was heavy duty, one they had used to communicate with Thunderous. "Flamestriker make it back okay with the supplies?"

"Yes."

"Good." Star murmured as she worked on the datapad. A moment later she set it down on the table and projected the screen above it. "We've got an opportunity to hit a Decepticon supply route pretty hard in the next decacycle, thought you'd be interested."

The shadow moved away from the edges of the cavern, finally approaching. The seeker smiled when two cold blue optics met hers, noting the other femme's armor was less scuffed and dented than their last meeting. She was using her right arm more fluidly and her foot was moving again, too. It had taken almost a vorn, but they'd finally got the femmes accepting medical supplies regularly, and it looked like their leader was finally letting her medic use them on her.

"You look better, Elita." The Nova said softly.

"That's not what we're here to talk about." Elita almost growled, reaching for the holographic screen.

Star slid it out of reach. "No. And actually, we're not here to talk about that supply route, either."

Elita slid a glare up at the taller seeker that was suspicious enough to put Red Alert to shame.

"It's time, Elita." Star told her. Someone large stepped into the entrance Star had come through. Someone with wings. Someone who reeked with Matrix power.

" _And you wonder why I won't let you come to my base."_ Elita-One snarled, turning away as Thunderous Prime stepped into the cavern. "Shoot him." The femme commander ordered on her way to the exit. Nothing happened. She stopped, glaring up at the roof.

"Elita-One, please, we need to talk." Thunderous tried to appeal to the femme.

"Moonracer, _shoot him_." Elita ordered again.

"But… he's the Prime…" a quiet voice whispered, audibly torn on what to do.

Elita-One growled as Thunderous stepped closer, holding out a hand. She whirled on the mech, drawing a handgun powerful enough to do some critical damage in these close quarters, even to the Prime's heavy armor. Star tensed, but at the mech's signal stayed where she was. Elita was aiming right for his head, but for some reason she wasn't pulling the trigger. Slowly, painfully slowly, Thunderous Prime knelt down, lowering his helm until the barrel of the gun was resting against it.

Elita still wasn't shooting. Her expression hadn't changed at all, but something about the way her armor was flicking gave the impression that she had no idea what to do with this situation.

"Elita-One, I came to apologize."

The femme's optics narrowed to vengeful slits. "Why? _You_ didn't kill him."

"No, but I watched, and I let it happen, even though I knew it was wrong." He looked up to meet the femme's crystal gaze. "I am sorry."

"No you're not," she sneered back. Her hand was starting to tremble.

"Yes." Thunderous Prime stated quietly. "I am."

In that moment the presence of the Matrix—so familiar to her—overwhelmed her defenses, speaking truth to her damaged spark, and Elita-One understood.

She dropped the gun, crumpling to the ground with a sob. Thunderous automatically lurched to catch her and she curled into his arms, weeping uncontrollably. The seeker had no idea what to do. But as he had been learning over the last vorn, he usually didn't have to do anything except not get in the Matrix's way. Power flowed out of him as pure emotion; compassion, and comfort. Words whispered into his mind in a voice he knew well—the one she wanted to hear.

"You can't do this on your own, 'Lita." He murmured, and he couldn't hear it but all three femmes _could_ as he spoke with the voice of Optimus Prime. "Let us help. Let yourself help us. We are stronger together. You _know_ that."

Elita-One only cried harder, finally letting herself feel what she had lost in the safety of the Prime's arms. It was breems before she started to calm down. Moonracer appeared at the entrance long before she did, optics bright and pale, armor clamped tight to her frame, and rifle clutched close to her chest. She nodded quickly to the Prime before skirting around him to stand next to Star.

"I haven't seen her cry since before…" she whispered, edging closer to the Nova. Star put an arm around the slim femme's shoulders, smiling down at her.

"I think it's a good thing, don't you?"

Moonracer smiled back, nodding. "Yes, I think so too."

The femme commander went quiet almost abruptly. Nobody moved, though Thunderous was very conscious of how awkward the situation was. He almost jumped when she looked up at him sharply. He watched warily as she studied his face for a long moment.

"I'm sorry." She finally said. "Follow me."

She got up and walked away.

"Where are we going?" the mech asked cautiously as he got to his feet.

"My base." Elita said, briefly turning back at the entrance to the dark tunnels leading away from the cavern. "It's time we joined forces."

* * *

AN: This is the end, my friends! Once again, go check out ajremix's story And Now for Something Completely Different, chapter 13 for the basis of this story, and I'll see you all next time! Thanks for sticking around!


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